Harry Potter and the Book of Evil
by AbRaCaDaBrA
Summary: x[COMPLETE!!]x DENY your PAST and DENY what you're EXPECTED to BE, because, in the END, it all comes down to FRIENDSHIP - and LOVE! Fifth year fic. New characters, funny DADA teacher, and a baaad book! R/HR, H/C, G/N. Please review my BEST work!! ~AnNiE~
1. The Academy

HARRY POTTER AND THE BOOK OF EVIL  
  
Chapter One  
  
The Academy  
  
COLUMBIA ACADEMY WAS perched on a cliff, overlooking the furious northern Atlantic ocean, somewhere in Maine. Most of it was actually embedded in the rock itself, with medieval-looking glass windows peering out over the ocean. There was a single tower, rising high over a glassy lobby and a courtyard with a low marble bench for the students to do work on.  
  
The bicycle came flying out of the air in a whirlwind of autumn leaves and came to a crashing halt on the courtyard floor.  
  
"Timothy!" shrieked Rosalind Sidereus.  
  
He freed himself from his red bike, grinning lopsidedly with his dark brown hair standing on end. Tim Wyvern picked up the frame, one jarred wheel rolling away, with a look of surprise; he didn't seem to realize he was going so fast. After fetching the wheel, he took out his wand - surprisingly intact - and restored the bike with a tap.  
  
"Whatever possessed you to enchant that old wreck?" asked Skyla Conway, eyeing the scratched and dirty metal.  
  
"An old wreck?" he asked, hand over his heart in mock surprise and olive eyes shining. "This was my dad's, are you kidding?"  
  
"Well, it's certainly old," commented Llewellyn Euryale, looking at his flushed, boyish face over her horn-rimmed glasses. "But aren't you going to get in trouble? A flying bike would scare the living daylights out of most Muggles."  
  
He tapped the frame again, and it became invisible with a small pop.  
  
"Smart," commented Rosalind blandly, her eyes back on her astronomy book, "but did you remember to make yourself invisible, too?"  
  
As Llewellyn and Skyla broke into furious fits of laughter, Tim turned into a brilliant shade of crimson and dragged his invisible bike down the stairs.  
  
The sun broke through a large cloud in the azure sky overlooking Columbia and the three students on the courtyard bench. Llewellyn was olive-colored, with dark wavy hair and trapezoidal glasses, while Rosalind had blue eyes, a sheet of light-brown hair, and silvery glasses. Skyla had dark brown eyes and hair. They all wore white Columbia robes with a navy band around their waist.  
  
Ino Kinst, Llewellyn's friend, left the lobby and walked onto the courtyard with his book bag on his back and a scowl on his face.  
  
"Euryale!" He loved to call Llewellyn by her last name.  
  
"'Sup?" she asked.  
  
"My grandma's mad at me. Says I've messed up too bad at Columbia. I think she's trying to force me into a Squib school."  
  
"Squib school?" repeated Llewellyn, horrified. "Your grades aren't that bad!"  
  
He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "If I don't scrape some O. W. L.'s this year, I'm - pfffft - out of here."  
  
"I can help you study," she volunteered.  
  
Ino shook his head. "Doesn't matter - I'm as good as dead. Anyway, you're going to be at that wizard school, Hogwarts, remember?"  
  
A sudden bolt of shock ran through her head.  
  
"Hogwarts!" she screeched, standing up and clapping her head to her forehead. "Oh, how could I have forgotten?"  
  
"You forgot you were going to Hogwarts for half a year?" echoed Skyla, astonished.  
  
"Well, the K. W. O. took a lot of my time, okay?" she shot back, nervously fingering her Knowledge Wizards'/Witches' Open badge on her band. Columbia had ranked first in the nation in the grueling summer competitions, and she was proud to be co-captain with Rosalind. The grand prize was the trip to any another wizard school in the world. They had decided on the oldest, Hogwarts, and each would go for two semesters. "What day is it, anyway?"  
  
"Friday," replied Rosalind, glancing for a second at her highly complex wristwatch.  
  
Llewellyn drew in a sharp breath. "I've two days?" she hissed to herself.  
  
Tim reappeared on the steps. "Two days 'til what?"  
  
"September first!" she replied, gathering up her quills and parchments. "When I go to Hogwarts!"  
  
"Oh yeah," he remarked.  
  
She sprinted across the courtyard and down the spiral staircase in a flurry of white robes and spell books.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Across the deep blue Atlantic ocean, across miles and miles of wave-whipped water, nestled between tall, rocky mountains, Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry loomed in the mist of morning.  
  
"Another exchange student, Albus?" asked Professor Minerva McGonagall, dimly lit by a crackling fire in the headmaster's office. "We won't have the same fiasco as with the Beauxbaton and Durmstrang students last year?"  
  
"No, no, Minerva," replied Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, his long silver beard glinting in the firelight. "Miss Euryale will be properly sorted, put with her age group, attend classes, and such."  
  
"Oh, and another question - three school balls?"  
  
"The first and last are dances, Minerva, a much less formal occasion. The new prefects and Head Boy and Girl all agreed a Back-To-School and a Leaving dance would be well received. Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?"  
  
"No, Albus, but thank you for your time."  
  
McGonagall paused for a moment, turned on her heel, and strode out of the office. On her way down, she accidentally knocked into an old, wooden crate covered with strange stickers and writings. A fair-skinned, reddish face wearing a baseball cap backwards popped into view.  
  
"Oh, sorry!" he chirped, stood up, and stuck out his hand. "I'm Matt Visilio, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. And you are?"  
  
"Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration," she replied crisply, looking at him like he had just crawled off the dirty streets.  
  
"Charmed," he replied, in a strangely oily tone. He took off his hat, smoothed back his gelled chestnut-colored hair, and kissed her hand.  
  
"Matthew, why don't you go, er, unpack your things?" suggested Dumbledore hastily, after seeing McGonagall's shocked face.  
  
"Alright, Headmaster, I'll leave you and Minnie McG to yourselves."  
  
She became an interesting spectacle as her nostrils whitened, cheeks reddened, and eyes flashed maliciously, all at the same time, as she watched Visilio drag his giant crate out the door and down the steps.  
  
" 'Minnie McG?' " asked Dumbledore, his blue eyes shining.  
  
McGonagall's mouth became, if possible, even thinner.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Rosalind threw the last white robe into Llewellyn's battered navy suitcase.  
  
"They wear black robes," explained Llewellyn, "so I'll wear the new black ones to class and my regular white ones otherwise."  
  
"Don't they wear Muggle clothes, too?" Rosalind asked.  
  
"Muggle clothes? Oh..." she replied, eyes wandering away from Rosalind and Skyla.  
  
"Oh, come on, Llewellyn, why don't you just get some Muggle clothes? You're not exactly broke, you know," suggested Rosalind.  
  
She rolled her eyes. "I can't. Tradition, I guess. No Euryale ever wears anything other than robes, except for very special occasions."  
  
"But why, though?" asked Skyla, looking from Rosalind to Llewellyn. "You're here at Columbia almost all year. Your parents wouldn't ever know, and what difference does it make if they do?"  
  
Llewellyn looked at her suitcase, her face turning red. "Later," she mumbled.  
  
She added a handful of balled-up socks and shut the lid.  
  
"Just think, Llewellyn, you're going to be gone for two semesters. I wonder how Columbia's - OUCH!"  
  
Rosalind stopped in mid-sentence. She looked down.  
  
"Timothy!" she shrieked, for the second time that day. "Your rabbit escaped!"  
  
He ran into the girl's dorm and came to a skidding halt.  
  
"Oh, did my little Deathy-poo get away?" he asked, dropping to the ground.  
  
"What?" asked Skyla.  
  
"Death," he said, picking up the fluffy white rabbit. He stood up. "That's his name."  
  
"He just bit me!" yelled Rosalind, pointing to two puncture marks on her foot.  
  
"Well, I tried to put a charm on him so he would eat my baloney sandwiches for me." Tim pulled a face. "But, I think I er, overdid it, because now he's a ferocious carnivore. Aren't you, my little Bunnicula?"  
  
Rosalind, Skyla, and Llewellyn made a very weird sound as they all groaned at the exact same time.  
  
"Never mind," he grumbled. Tim readjusted Death so he was in the crook of one arm and waved with the other one. "I'll be putting Death in his cage and a charm on his cage - he chewed his way out of the metal bars!"  
  
He turned and was about to walk out of the girls' dorm when Professor Szeles, who taught Potions and Astronomy, walked by.  
  
"Timothy Wyvern!" she yelled. "What do you think you're doing? That's the girls' dorm!"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The next day passed by so quickly Llewellyn thought someone in the heavens had just decided to skip it. She forced herself through her classes, each of them seeming a whole lot less interesting than usual. Other than Rosalind, her friends seemed to avoid her, like they knew they couldn't start anything that would take more than a few hours. Llewellyn was glad when the end of the day abruptly came.  
  
Dawn the next morning was cold, clear, and bright, an autumn kind of feeling in the air.  
  
The pillow slapped in her face woke Llewellyn with a start.  
  
"Get up!" Rosalind nudged the pile of blankets Llewellyn was tied up in. "You were talking in your sleep again."  
  
Llewellyn thought back to that dream she was having. Something with a...a snake?  
  
A bleary eye appeared over the lip of the blankets. "What time is it?" she asked groggily.  
  
"Nine o'clock," responded Rosalind curtly. "Headmaster Jannis told me to tell you you're leaving at eleven, getting there at three, and breakfast is at nine-fifteen."  
  
"Leaving at eleven and getting there at three?" she asked, yawning wide. "How am I getting to Hogwarts?"  
  
"I dunno," replied Rosalind, making her way out of the girl's dorm. "But breakfast is sure to be a real treat!" she called from the doorway.  
  
"Yeah, my last meal," muttered Llewellyn darkly, raising herself to a sitting position. She was beginning to get second thoughts about going to such a different wizarding school, when she had been at Columbia Academy for nearly all her life. With only half a mind, she changed into her crisp white robes and trudged down to the cafeteria.  
  
"Surprise!" yelled the school.  
  
With a start, she tore her eyes from the floor and looked around, bewildered, at the decorations and posters festooning the walls and ceiling.  
  
A big sign on the far wall read, in silver and navy letters, "Good Bye and Good Luck, Llewellyn!" There were streamers decorating the stone walls, and the glass ceiling was covered in balloons. The normal white dishes were replaced by navy ones, with the school wolf on the front. One quick sniff revealed the breakfast was pancakes, Llewellyn's favorites.  
  
Rosalind waved from her seat and motioned to a empty seat between her and Skyla. Llewellyn rolled her eyes and grinned, plopping down into the chair and picking at her pancakes.  
  
"Euryale! We made you a good-bye card!" called Ino. Tim handed over a ridiculously large green card. Llewellyn laughed, took it out of his hand, and opened it. Several lime colored birds flew out, and one of her favorite songs, "Enchanted By Moonlight" by Mora Jones, began playing. In a small olive bag on the inside were nineteen chinkas, the American wizard coins.  
  
"We took up a collection," explained Skyla.  
  
"Aw, thanks, guys," replied Llewellyn, reading the various messages written inside.  
  
Tim flung a piece of pancake at her, and it bounced off her forehead. Slightly annoyed, she picked it up from off the floor and realized it was actually a rolled-up scrap of parchment. Raising her eyebrows inquisitively at him, he mouthed one word: "Hogwarts". She nodded and stealthily stuffed it in her pocket.  
  
Although Llewellyn barely touched her breakfast, the morning was very enjoyable as her friends relived all their past experiences and how different Columbia would be with her gone. All too soon, again feeling like there was a sudden cosmic time skip, she was changing into the strangely different black Hogwarts robes and dragging the suitcase to the lobby.  
  
Feeling, she thought bitterly, just like a black sheep, she stood waiting between Skyla and Tim as the five professors of Columbia got the extra- strength Floo powder working correctly. Columbia was very different from Hogwarts, Professor Risden had told her. There were about two hundred students, opposed to Columbia's twenty-five, and twenty professors. Hogwarts was divided into four houses, with absurd names such as Gryffindor and Slytherin, and played a European-favored sport called Quidditch. She wondered if it was anything like Quodpot 2000, her favorite game in the world.  
  
Finally, the flames had risen, strangely blue, and Professor McVey announced to Llewellyn that it was eleven.  
  
"Why am I getting there at three?" Llewellyn asked.  
  
"It's three o'clock there when its eleven here," she answered, and stepped back, clearing the way to the fireplace. With one last look at her friends, all waving good-byes, she clenched the handle of her suitcase, stepped foward, and shouted, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" 


	2. Return to Hogwarts

Chapter Two  
  
Return to Hogwarts  
  
HARRY POTTER LEANED BACK INTO THE SEAT OF THE TRAIN AND SHUT HIS EYES FOR A MOMENT. THE GENTLE RUMBLE UNDER HIS FEET MADE HIM VERY SLEEPY, AS HE HAD BEEN AWAKE FOR MOST OF LAST NIGHT. RON WEASLEY YAWNED NEXT TO HIM AND OPENED UP A PACK OF CARDS HARRY RECOGNIZED AS THE TWIN'S EXPLODING SNAP GAME.  
  
"We're almost there, Ron, we should get changed," suggested Hermione Granger, checking her watch.  
  
Harry opened his eyes with a start. Sure enough, far off in the distance, he could see the tips of the mountains around Hogwarts.  
  
Ron wasn't playing Exploding Snap, he was sitting on the floor opposite of Harry with several Chocolate Frogs in his lap. Harry suddenly realized that he had actually slept through the entire trip to Hogwarts. He pushed his glasses up his nose and yanked black robes out of his trunk.  
  
Hermione hopped around the compartment, the cuff of her jeans caught on a seam of the robes. She suddenly toppled into Ron, who caught her in his arms. Both of them turned an identical shade of red as she bent down and freed her robes. She pinned on the silver "P" she got over the summer - she was a prefect, because of her high scores.  
  
Soon, Hogwarts was seen looming up against the bright blue sky and foreboding mountains. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all grinned at the same time at the sight of it. The scarlet engine came through a gap in the mountains and stopped by a great gate flanked by winged boars. They left their compartment and went into the bright sunlight, surrounded by the familiar students and occasional first-years.  
  
"Firs' years! Firs' years, come on over 'ere, firs' years!" boomed the familiar voice of Hagrid, the gameskeeper. He spotted Harry. "'Ey 'Arry, all righ'? Got a bi' o' a shock this mor'ing -"  
  
But what Hagrid had gotten a shock from, he could not tell, as all the first years were surging around Hagrid. Ron shrugged as Harry looked at him quizzically. Hermione tugged on their arms and pulled them towards the waiting carriages, when Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie MacMillan appeared. "Hey, Harry, Ron, Hermione," called Ernie. "There's a girl I don't know, looking for some Gryffindor fifth years, over there." He pointed to someone sitting on a tree stump apart from the crowd, who looked Harry's age, but wasn't at Hogwarts before.  
  
"Thanks, Ernie," replied Harry. He, Ron, and Hermione fought their way through the crowd to the person.  
  
"Are you Gryffindor fifth years? Do you know where they are?" she asked, in what could only be an American accent.  
  
"We're Gryffindor fifth years," replied Ron.  
  
She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "Thank goodness. I've been looking for some since the train got here."  
  
"Who are you?" asked Hermione, a little more demanding than what she meant.  
  
"I'm Llewellyn Euryale," she replied, getting to her feet. "I'm an exchange student from an wizard school called Columbia, in Maine."  
  
"Oh, you're from the States?" asked Harry.  
  
She looked at him, bewildered, for just a moment. "Oh, yeah, I'm from...what did you call it...the States. Well, I'm here for half a year, and I just got sorted. Professor McGonagall said it was a record - that hat took five whole minutes to figure out where I'm supposed to be. So, since I'm fifteen, I'm with the Gryffindor fifth years - you."  
  
Harry looked at Ron and then looked at Hermione. Ron shrugged again and Hermione nodded. "I'm Harry Potter, this is Ron Weasley, and this is Hermione Granger."  
  
"Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger," repeated Llewellyn, pointing at each in turn. "Wait a minute, Harry Potter?" He nodded slowly, a sinking feeling coming into his stomach. "Cool," she replied, not even looking at his forehead.  
  
"Ron, Hermione, Harry! Come on, you're going to miss it!" called a red- haired girl, opening the door to the last carriage.  
  
"That's Ginny, my sister," explained Ron, striding towards the opening. Harry, Llewellyn, and Hermione followed him close behind. The old carriage bumped and swayed as Harry explained some basics of Hogwarts to Llewellyn, who was sitting next to him. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione sat across from them.  
  
"We play Quidditch, which I don't think a lot of people do in the States, but we saw some people from Salem at the World Cup last year. I'm the Seeker for Gryffindor, which means I search for a little winged golden ball."  
  
"Good thing you were sorted into Gryffindor," commented Ron. "That's supposed to mean you're brave and chivalrous, or something."  
  
"Better than Slytherin," added Ginny. "The hat says they're cunning and ambitious, but they're just plain mean."  
  
"You've got to watch out for this one Slytherin," cut in Hermione. "His name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. He's really nasty to us. Hagrid himself said all Malfoys were rotten to the core."  
  
"Hagrid, the gameskeeper, who lives in that cabin out on the grounds?" asked Llewellyn, turning slightly pink.  
  
"Yes," replied Harry, looking at her with half a grin on his face. He was starting to figure out what had happened to Hagrid that morning.  
  
"Well, Long-Distance Floo Powder isn't that reliable, I guess, because I suddenly appeared right in his cabin fireplace, right when he was making lunch. Scared his dog out of its wits."  
  
Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Llewellyn all broke into furious laughter. It comforted Llewellyn quite a bit, to already have made these four friends. The carriage suddenly stopped, and everyone filed out and went up the steps up to the lobby and into the Great Hall.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"We've missed the sorting hat song!" whispered Hermione as they crept across the back of the hall to the Gryffindor table.  
  
"But we can still see who's being sorted," replied Ron.  
  
"Maelstrom, Carrie!" called McGonagall.  
  
"RAVENCLAW!" said the Sorting Hat.  
  
They passed the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy was sitting between his friend Vincent Crabbe and an empty chair. Seeing a motion out of the corner of his eye, he turned around, smirking, and looked right at Harry and the others.  
  
"Mandastrom, Trevor!"  
  
"GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
"That's Malfoy. Keep going, keep going." Harry pushed Llewellyn, who was in front of him. Malfoy caught sight of Llewellyn, and his expression changed drastically. Harry couldn't read it in the half-darkness, but he could tell Malfoy seemed to notice that people like Llewellyn just weren't made in England. She caught this too, and looked from Malfoy to Harry.  
  
"Melvin, Jim!"  
  
"HUFFLEPUFF!"  
  
"Sorry, Draco," said Llewellyn, slightly higher than a whisper so he could hear her. "But I happen to like the good guys." Suddenly, she hugged Harry.  
  
"Mortin, Laura!"  
  
"SLYTHERIN!"  
  
Harry was so shocked, he hadn't realized that Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had already left for the Gryffindor table. Llewellyn sprinted ahead to the table and firmly sat down between Hermione and Ginny, with her face down, not looking at Harry.  
  
"Lennard, Jennifer!"  
  
"RAVENCLAW!"  
  
Harry sat down, face burning, and looked up at the staff table. There was Hagrid, Flitwick, Snape, Sinistra, Vector, and all the normal professors sitting tall at the table. Then there was another one, a new professor, whom Harry figured was Defense Against the Dark Arts. He wasn't sitting tall at all. In fact, he had his feet up against the side of the table and chair on two legs, with a baseball cap backwards on his head.  
  
"Lubbock, Christopher!"  
  
"HUFFLEPUFF!"  
  
"Look at the new teacher," whispered Harry to Hermione, who was sitting next to him. Hermione pursed her lips at his apparent lack of formality but didn't say anything.  
  
"Malfoy, Shirley!"  
  
Harry and Ron almost jumped out of their seats, they were so surprised at that name. They craned to get a better look at her before the hat came down over her head, wondering if Hogwarts could stand two Malfoys at once.  
  
"Did she say Shirley Malfoy?" asked Llewellyn.  
  
"Shhh!" hissed Ginny.  
  
"SLYTHERIN!"  
  
"I knew it," grumbled Ron. Shirley took off the hat, tossed it into McGonagall's hand, and skipped over to the Slytherin table. She was short, with the same whitish-blonde hair as Draco, but it was curly and in pigtails, and her face was cheery and bright.  
  
"Funny, she doesn't look evil," commented Hermione.  
  
Harry watched the rest of the Sorting with only half a mind. He occasionally stole a glance at Llewellyn, but she kept her head down. Did she really mean what she had said? "She happened to like the good guys?" Well, it's not that Harry didn't like her, she was definitely cute, but still....  
  
Professor McGonagall finished the sorting with "Whitehead, Amy", and took away the hat and stool. Albus Dumbledore, the ancient but wise headmaster, stood up, and the general chatter in the hall subsided.  
  
"Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts, returning students, and all greetings to our first years, and our exchange student from the States. I'd like to introduce you to our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."  
  
The professor who was leaning back in his chair jumped up from his seat and stood up, grinning broadly. "This is Professor Matthew Visilio, who is also from the States." Llewellyn picked up her head at these words.  
  
Visilio waved to the students and sat down again.  
  
"I'd also like to remind everyone that the forest on the grounds is out-of- bounds to all students, and the village of Hogsmeade to all students other than third-year and up," continued Dumbledore. "And it is my pleasure to announce that there will be two additional school dances this year, one coming this Saturday."  
  
"Now, before you bite into this delicious feast, I have only three words to say this year: Eat prunes regularly."  
  
Llewellyn stared wildly at Dumbledore as he sat down. The food appeared on the table, as it did last year and every year before that. Harry ate quickly, his stomach still churning with butterflies. Or, he thought to himself, they felt more like screwts than butterflies. The feast was gradually finished, and the food from the plates melted away. He only mumbled the school song, and barely realized where he had gone when, suddenly, he was at his four-poster.  
  
"Did you see what happened?" he asked Ron, when they were just about to shut their hangings.  
  
"No, what?"  
  
Harry sighed. "Llewellyn hugged me, right in front of Malfoy."  
  
Ron's eyes got so big they were in danger of falling out. "What?" he asked, almost screeching.  
  
Harry shrugged and smiled. "She said she likes good guys," he replied, a strange new kind of feeling swelling inside of him. "Think I should ask her to the dance?"  
  
"Only if you think I should ask Hermione," replied Ron with a large grin on his face.  
  
Now it was Harry's turn to jump up in shock. "You are?" he asked, not bothering to suppress a huge smile. "You really are?"  
  
Ron put his hands behind his head and collapsed on to his pillow. "Yup," he replied. "I'm going to ask. I mean, sooner or later. Well, I...I don't know! I mean, what if she says no? It's not like I can't avoid her."  
  
Harry look at Ron. "We have to ask as soon as possible. Or else Llewellyn and Hermione will be going with someone else. Remember last year?  
  
"I'm going to ask by tomorrow. By the time I'm eating dinner, I'll have asked her," responded Ron with determination.  
  
Harry slid into his blankets. "Me, too." He slapped Ron a high five from across the beds and suddenly, fell asleep. 


	3. Lessons

Chapter Three  
  
  
  
  
  
Lessons  
  
Across Gryffindor Tower, in the fifth-year girls dorm, Llewellyn, Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati were still quite awake.  
  
"So, you just kind of showed up, right in Hagrid's cabin?" asked Parvati, her head in her chin.  
  
"Yup. Right when he was making...what'd you call it...tea!" answered Llewellyn, grinning widely.  
  
The four girls erupted into not-quite-fifteen-type giggles.  
  
"So, what do you think of that new teacher? Matthew Visilio?" Lavender looked around at the others, hugging her pillow. Parvati gave a low whistle and toppled off her bed. Hermione pursed her lips again.  
  
"He is missing some manners," she started.  
  
"Hey, Llewellyn, isn't he from the States, just like you?" interrupted Parvati, reappearing on the bed with a big, sappy grin.  
  
"Not from Maine, I hope, that would just be too weird," said Llewellyn.  
  
"I wonder how he teaches? Maybe he's really smart," commented Lavender. Hermione made a small sound through her nose.  
  
"And cute!" Parvati giggled. Lavender walloped her with her pillow.  
  
"I can't believe we're having a dance next Saturday!" she said dreamily. "D'you think Seamus'll ask me again?"  
  
"Maybe, but I don't think Harry'll ask me," replied Parvati, sighing.  
  
Llewellyn turned the same color as her four poster. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice.  
  
"No Viktor Krum for poor Hermione," said Lavender, grinning from ear to ear. "Maybe Harry will ask her, eh, Parvati?"  
  
"It's a dance," protested Hermione. "You don't need couples. That's the Yule Ball."  
  
"Oh, of course, the prefect would know," shot back Parvati, frowning.  
  
"What is it, Llewellyn?" interrupted Lavender, eyeing her face, now a brilliant shade of flamenco.  
  
"Hermione knows," she responded.  
  
"What?" replied Hermione.  
  
"You know," she answered. "What I told you?"  
  
"Oh! That." Hermione smiled broadly. "Well, either Harry's going to ask you out or he's going to never talk to you again. I don't know."  
  
"Are you two going to tell us what's going on?" cut in Parvati.  
  
"It's none of your business," retorted Llewellyn, leaning back into her four-poster. "Fine then, then what we have to say isn't any of yours," snapped Lavender. She pulled the side of her hangings facing Hermione and Llewellyn shut. They stared at the wall of red for a second, slightly surprised. Llewellyn crossed over to Hermione's bed and yanked closed her drapes.  
  
"What the -" began Hermione.  
  
"Their loss," interrupted Llewellyn softly.  
  
They looked at each other, grinning, finding at last a friend to depend and lean on at Hogwarts.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"We don't have Visilio until Wednesday," said Llewellyn, slightly disappointed.  
  
Hermione looked over at her timetable. "Oh, you're taking Divination and Muggle Studies?"  
  
Ron and Harry looked up from their toast at the mention of Divination. Ron caught Hermione's eye, and opened his mouth. At finding no words to say exactly, he quickly shut it again. She smiled at the corners of her mouth and was just about to say something when the massive fluttering overhead announced the owls had arrived.  
  
Llewellyn screeched and put her hand over her head as a barn owl landed rather inexpertly into her oatmeal ."Jarmahada! Honestly!" she grumbled, wiping some of the sticky cereal off of his feathers. Miraculously, the letter attached to Jarmaharda's leg had remained rather un-oatmealed. As she unfolded the note, the brownish-gray owl shook just like a wet dog and took off again. Harry, so amused by the messy arrival of Llewellyn's owl, hadn't noticed Hedwig had arrived.  
  
"Ouch, Hedwig, I'm getting callouses from all your nips," complained Harry as he freed the note from her leg. She looked at him disdainfully and flew off with a bit of bacon as soon as he had freed the paper.  
  
"Who is it?" asked Ron, looking over Harry's shoulder.  
  
"Hagrid, I think," he replied. He was right.  
  
Harry,  
  
How are you? Just saying hi before the first Care of  
  
Magical Creatures class. This year is going to be really  
  
interesting. Just you wait til Wednesday, I want this as a  
  
surprise to the whole school.  
  
Hagrid  
  
"Really interesting?" asked Ron, frowning. "How much do you want to bet this creature has poisonous fangs? Spits fire? Has four heads?"  
  
Harry opened his mouth and was just about to respond when Hermione and Llewellyn erupted into laughter held back behind tightly-clamped hands.  
  
"What?" asked Harry, looking from the two faces to the letter in Llewellyn's free hand. "Just gossip from my old school," she replied, gaining her breath back. "A friend of mine named Tim Wyvern loves to enchant things. He had a carnivorous rabbit, a tap-dancing grasshopper, and a flying skateboard and bike. Well, the rabbit got onto the skateboard, and now Tim's in big trouble because it crashed through a window right into the principal's office."  
  
Hermione and Llewellyn had to duck under the table because they were giggling so hard. Harry and Ron looked at each other, shrugging.  
  
"Giggling should be made illegal," commented Harry nonchalantly, repeating last year's thought. With a sudden rush into his stomach, he remembered the time he had come up with that phrase. He was asking a very pretty older girl named Cho Chang to the Yule Ball. Now he was thinking of asking Llewellyn...so what about Cho?  
  
He shoved the thought down into the squelchy bottom of his troubles and followed Ron as he left breakfast for their first class, Divination. He didn't see Llewellyn until they were waiting with the rest of the class in the North Tower. She arrived out of breath just seconds before the silvery ladder fell out of the circular trapdoor into the heads of the crowds.  
  
"So sorry," she admitted to Harry, who was just a few feet higher on the ladder than her, "but I couldn't find my copy of Unfogging the Future. Sometimes, I can get really unorganized with my school supplies. Wow, this is Divination?"  
  
"Yes, it's the miracle room," responded Ron sarcastically, his head sticking up just where Llewellyn had gotten off the ladder. "And don't say you're unorganized until you meet Neville Longbottom."  
  
There was a movement in the shadows in front of the fire, and Professor Trelawney appeared. She slowly approached Llewellyn, who was examining the classroom with a lot of interest.  
  
"Welcome, my dear," she said in her mystical whisper of a voice, "to Divination. Since we here in this room are working on our third year of seeing the oracles of the future, you will receive a brief explanation of what we have covered from my two best students." She waved a bracelet- encrusted arm towards Parvati and Lavender, who sprouted identical looks of disgust on their faces.  
  
Llewellyn thought fast. "We...we did some of that at Columbia. Crystal ball gazing, er, palmistry, um, egg whites - -"  
  
Trelawney's eyes widened, making them appear frighteningly huge behind her out-sized glasses. "Egg whites? That is an interesting accomplishment, especially since we are doing it today."  
  
Harry groaned, just in Ron's earshot, as Llewellyn sank into a pouf next to him. He wondered what horrors Trelawney would find in his cup today. She launched into an explanation of the day's activities, interrupted only by Neville spilling his glass of water all over Dean. Ron got up and brought back three eggs for Harry, Llewellyn, and himself. Silently, wondering just what baloney Trelawney would reveal their cups held, they dropped the egg whites into the cups and tried to decipher the symbols.  
  
"Look, I've got something, that looks a bit like a teapot," commented Ron. He opened his book and scanned the pages. "That's supposed to mean a change in friendships, well, I hope not...." He looked sidelong at Harry, who rolled his eyes back and searched through his list.  
  
"Now, that skinny thing...I think that's a candle, okay, that's supposed to mean a light from the future, or help from friends. Thanks already, Ron."  
  
Trelawney hurried over to Harry's table. "A candle?" she asked, picking up his cup and looked carefully at the shape. She let out a shriek and put the cup back down on the table, as quick as if it was on fire. "My dear!" she said shakily (Lavender and Parvati turned around quickly). "You have the axe! Danger to you or a friend!"  
  
"Ooh," said Parvati, her face shining in the light given off by Harry's candle. "Professor Trelawney, Lavender has a question mark, what does that mean?"  
  
Trelawney pulled a very strange, half-worried half-amused kind of face and hurried over to Lavender's cup. "It is!" she exclaimed, in a much quieter voice than when she had announced Harry's images. "My, my, Lavender, my dear, a question mark means questionable morals."  
  
Ron, Harry, and Llewellyn broke into furious fits of laughter, just quiet enough so that they could hear Trelawney whisper "But, these things shouldn't always be trusted, my dear," into Lavender's ear. This just made the three of them laugh harder, much to the dismay of both Lavender and Trelawney.  
  
"Hm, what's that ring?" asked Llewellyn, poking at a thin circle floating around in her glass with her quill. She stared at her book. "A necklace, I guess that's close enough. Ooh, it means I have admirers."  
  
Harry shot a quick glance at Ron, who grinned back broadly. "Ack, I broke it. Okay, what's a broken necklace? Darn, it's danger ahead in love." She stared at her cup morosely, oblivious of the fact that Ron and Harry were giggling so hard they had to duck under the table.  
  
They left the North Tower in considerably better spirits than when they had entered, and met up with Hermione in front of the Great Hall. "Loads of homework?" asked Ron, half joking and half hopeful. Hermione glared at him, shaking her head.  
  
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Llewellyn walked in to lunch. Harry and Ron sat across from Hermione and Llewellyn, still remembering their promises to have asked them to the dance by dinnertime. They hadn't worked up the courage to ask yet, and hurried off to Herbology without much as a backwards glance to the girls, who were trailing behind them.  
  
Professor Sprout introduced the class to a highly interesting, carnivorous plant called a snapdragon, which was, in fact, a real kind of dragon. It blew a few sparks out of its nose as Sprout poured fertilizer down the head, which was surrounded by tall, dark leaves. Hermione was highly interested, as Harry guessed Hagrid might have been, too, but Ron and Llewellyn seemed to be rather bored.  
  
"Charlie'd have no problem with that snapdragon," he said to Harry out of the corner of his mouth. "And you wouldn't, right?" he added, grinning.  
  
"Oh, come on. This is nothing compared to Tim's Venus flytraps," whispered Llewellyn flatly.  
  
"Shh!" hissed Hermione, as Sprout came around with several buckets of different animal parts for cutting up. Llewellyn and Ron worked on one table, with Harry and Hermione on the next one over. Harry and Ron kept shooting asserting glances at each other, but said nothing until they could send back their cut-up pieces and watch the two snapdragons eat.  
  
"That was disgusting," grumbled Hermione as they made their way up to History of Magic. Harry felt the same way, as the dragons seemed to enjoy thrashing about and getting their food everywhere except for their mouths. They entered the classroom silently.  
  
Llewellyn took a seat between Hermione and a window, pulling out A History of Magic. Hermione shook her head and put the book back into Llewellyn's bag. She opened her mouth to ask why when, suddenly, Professor Binns appeared through the wall. Yelling in fright, Llewellyn toppled backwards right onto Neville, who was passing by to get to his desk behind her. Binns shuffled some papers and started right into his notes as Llewellyn stared at him, horror struck, still lying on the floor.  
  
Hermione pulled her up by simply lifting the back of her chair and started on a few sentence's worth of notes on the 1652 goblin rebellion. Llewellyn blinked a few times and started writing several notes, still surprised at her professor's apparent lack of a body.  
  
Suddenly, it seemed to Harry, he was sitting back down again in the Great Hall for dinner. He looked sideways at Ron, who was fidgeting around with his book bag. Ron looked up at him and raised his eyebrows. Harry nodded, and stood up with Ron.  
  
"Do you want to go to the dance with me?" they asked at the exact same time and with the same pitch. Hermione and Llewellyn looked up, bewildered, from their conversations on the other side of the table.  
  
"Who's asking who?" asked Hermione, a piece of steak floating halfway to her mouth.  
  
Harry and Ron looked at each other. "Ron with you and Llewellyn with me," blurted Harry quickly.  
  
"Oh, well, er," Llewellyn began, looking at Hermione.  
  
"Yes, we'll both go," she responded, determined.  
  
"Excellent," replied Ron, sitting down. "Pass me the potatoes, will you, Llewellyn?" 


	4. Professor Visilio

Chapter Four  
  
Professor Visilio  
  
LATER THAT NIGHT, LLEWELLYN AND HERMIONE WERE SITTING IN THEIR BEDS, TRYING HARD TO BLOCK PARVATI AND LAVENDER'S LOUD COMMENTS ABOUT BEING ASKED TO THE DANCE BY DEAN AND SEAMUS. THEY WERE DISCUSSING HARRY AND RON'S ASKING IN A WHISPERING TONE, NONE THE LESS, PARVATI AND LAVENDER'S SHARP EARS CAUGHT THE COMMENTS.  
  
"Ron asked you?" started Lavender, whipping back the hangings that separated them.  
  
"And Harry asked you?" added Parvati, sitting next to Lavender with a amused grin on her face.  
  
"Yes," said Hermione, rather exasperatedly.  
  
"Ooh, Parvati, just like her cup in Divination! It said she had admirers!" hissed Lavender into Parvati's ear.  
  
Hermione made an annoyed kind of face but didn't say anything.  
  
"Okay, thanks!" said Parvati, as she closed her hangings again.  
  
"Wonder what that was about," said Llewellyn, as she drifted off to sleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The first class on Tuesday was Transfiguration, where McGonagall showed her first sign of a sense of humor by scaring the class (and especially Llewellyn) into thinking they were receiving a pop quiz on their first day. Then came lunch, Charms, and finally, Care of Magical Creatures.  
  
"Good luck with that surprise!" called Llewellyn as she separated from the others to go to Muggle Studies.  
  
"Yeah, I think we're going to need it," answered Ron. The three made their way across the grounds to Hagrid's cabin, where, to their relief and surprise, there was no paddock, no cage, no crate - or in fact anything possibly containing a vicious creature.  
  
"Big surprise fer yeh all terday," Hagrid announced, positively beaming. "Come, come around here, we'll be depa'ing in a couple o' minutes."  
  
"Departing where?" came the cold drawl of Draco Malfoy behind Harry.  
  
"You'll see, Malfoy. Now're we all here? Good, okay, three ter a boat, come 'round here." Hagrid led them to the shores of the lake, where the boats they had crossed in on their first day at Hogwarts were nestled against the sand. Harry, Ron, and Hermione piled into a boat and rowed after Hagrid. They saw, someways ahead of them but still in the wide shallows, something huge, thrashing about wildly.  
  
When the fleet of boats were about twenty feet from the turbulent waters, Hagrid put his hand up for everyone to stop. Harry sat up higher to get a better look at was in the water, and with a sudden jolt to his stomach, he watched a pinkish-colored tentacle wave lazily above the water.  
  
"Eeugh!" shrieked Lavender.  
  
"It's the giant squid!" squeaked Neville, who had to be held back with both arms by Dean and Seamus from jumping out of the boat and swimming to the shore.  
  
"How'd you catch it?" asked Hermione.  
  
"Professer Visilio helped me ter catch her. She's in an enchanted net, yeh can cut them but she can' escape, see those rocks it's tied ter?"  
  
Harry couldn't see how Hagrid could tell if the squid was a girl or not, but they had a somewhat enjoyable lesson, compared to previous ones, at least, as Hagrid showed the class the tentacle she had wounded and how to bandage it. At the end of the lesson, they watched him hack at the net with a gigantic knife and the squid retreat to the deep depths of lake.  
  
"Now that was cool," said Ron as they made their way to the dorm. "How big do you think that squid was? Eighty feet? Ninety?"  
  
Llewellyn appeared from a side corridor and joined the three. "How was Care of Magical Creatures?" she asked.  
  
"We looked at the giant squid," answered Hermione.  
  
"Coffee beans," said Harry. The Fat Lady swung foward on her hinges and the four piled into the common room.  
  
"Defense Against the Dark Arts tomorrow," commented Hermione, checking her schedule.  
  
"Took long enough," commented Ron, yawning.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The Gryffindors lined up outside of Professor Visilio's room right after Transfiguration, Parvati and Lavender giggling to a high volume while Seamus and Dean discussed what they had heard from students who had gone to the class before hand.  
  
Finally, the wooden door opened. Professor Visilio was there, looking a little bewildered but certainly cheerful. He had his hat in his hand, and Harry caught a glimpse of two letters - an N and a Y - before he sat down between Ron and Hermione at the back of the classroom.  
  
"Alright, estunands, time for attendance," he said over the general chatter. "Lavender Brown."  
  
"Here, Professor, me!" called Lavender, nearly falling out of her seat.  
  
"Alright, gotcha, Lav, okay, is Seamus Finnigan here?" He ran through the rest of the attendance. He didn't stop on Harry's name, but Harry could see his expression change the slightest bit. He did, however, stop on Llewellyn's name.  
  
"Euryale, Euryale, Euryale, I know that from somewhere. Hey, are you the exchange student from the U.S.?"  
  
Llewellyn nodded. "Wassaaaap?" he called, leaning back in his chair and putting his hat back on. She broke into a humongous grin and repeated it after him. Harry, and apparently the rest of the classroom, had no clue at all as to what Visilio and Llewellyn were saying. He made sure the rest of the class was there, bumped his chair back to four legs on the ground, mumbled, "All present and accounted for", and shoved the parchment into his desk.  
  
"Alright, muchachos y muchachas, I know you're used to starting right into lessons on the first day. Well, stop getting used to it!" He shoved over some inkwells and sat down on the front of his desk. "Since this is my first year, and you all know yourselves, I want you to know me better. So, go ahead, chicos, just ask away. I am completely informal, I know, and I am proud of that."  
  
Parvati raised her hand, and Visilio pointed to her. "How old are you?" Lavender stifled a giggle and hit Parvati lightly for her boldness, but still seemed interested in the answer.  
  
"Twenty-six going on twelve. That's what my folks say."  
  
"How long have you been teaching?" asked Dean.  
  
"I taught students at two different schools for five years."  
  
"What do you like about the Dark Arts? How does it interest you?" asked Hermione.  
  
"How?" responded Visilio. "How does it interest me? In several different ways, I suppose. Well, anyway, there's many different aspects of it: lower creatures, higher creatures, curses, hexes, and then, simply, Dark Arts, which you'll learn a bit of this year and more next year. I guess you could say I'm interested because I...well, let's just leave it as a suggestion from an old friend I grew up in a bad town with."  
  
"What's your Quodpot 2000 team?" requested Llewellyn. Harry and Ron looked at her, completely confused.  
  
"Excellent question, amiga, and only you would think of that." He grinned at her. "That is either a short answer or long answer. Short answer: the New York Nogtails."  
  
"What's the long answer?" blurted out Neville.  
  
"Long answer? Nogtails, still, but that comes with a story attached. The story is that for the past two years I've been playing reserves for the Nogtails."  
  
Llewellyn squeaked and jumped up. "That was you! When Shallcross and Johnson were both out of the game last year, you played Quoddie! I knew I knew you from somewhere!"  
  
Visilio looked both surprised and bewildered that someone had remember him. "Well, yes, that was me, though no one seemed to notice," he admitted.  
  
"Are you kidding?" asked Llewellyn, who seemed to have to exercise much willpower in not running up to the teacher's desk in her glee. "You scored fifteen points! You basically won the game by yourself!"  
  
Visilio turned slightly pink. "Er, okay, yes, well, anything else?" Llewellyn sat down again. No one said anything. "Okay, well, I should...start lessons."  
  
Harry looked at Ron, who had a very chagrined expression plastered on his freckled face. They opened their new Defense Against the Dark Arts books to the first pages and listened to Visilio explain something about poltergeists, still trying to catch the interest of the class with excessive hand motions.  
  
"Very interesting." commented Hermione as the bell rang, dotting her last period in the paragraph they were assigned to do in class.  
  
"Ditto," replied Llewellyn. "I never knew all that about poltergeists. Makes you feel pity for them, don't you?"  
  
Harry and Ron snorted. It was apparent that they were not so quick to forgive all the times Peeves had landed them a fat lot of trouble. They handed in their paragraphs, and Harry was quick to notice the erratic capitals of Llewellyn's writing.  
  
The Gryffindors went back to their dormitories to drop off their bags and go down to dinner. 


	5. The Dance

Chapter Five  
  
  
  
The Dance  
  
It was Saturday already, and the Great Hall could easily be mistaken for a night club. Spinning, multi-colored lights flashed from every corner. A giant disco ball on the starry ceiling threw spinning spots of light over the fogged floor. Huge stacks of speakers dwarfed a turn table between them, where the teachers would normally be. A DJ appeared from the front entrance, carrying a huge pile of records and CD's.  
  
"Oh no," whispered Llewellyn as the DJ passed them.  
  
"What?" asked Hermione.  
  
"That's Visilio!" replied Llewellyn, pointing at his back.  
  
There were two squeals of laughter behind them. Lavender and Parvati were hanging on to Seamus's and Dean's arms, as if they would run away the second one of the girls let go. Judging by their faces, this was the boys' plan.  
  
"Matt is going to be playing our music?" tittered Parvati.  
  
"Matt is so cute!" squealed Lavender.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
"Oh, excuse me," snapped Parvati. She unhooked herself from Dean and put her hands on her hips. "I should call him Professor Visilio, shouldn't I?" she continued, dripping with sarcasm.  
  
"Yeah, or else the prefect is gonna get us in trouble,"added Lavender.  
  
Dean and Seamus saw their chance, and scurried over to the refreshments table.  
  
"Come on, Hermione, we don't need to listen to this trash," proclaimed Llewellyn. She grabbed her wrist and moved out of the doorway. Harry and Ron followed, leaving Lavender and Parvati nothing to do but look on with disgust.  
  
"Wonder what kind of stuff Visilio's gonna play tonight," commented Ron. He popped an Every-Flavor Bean into the air and caught it with his mouth.  
  
No one ever knew afterwards why Ron had suddenly fell to his knees. It could have been a dirt- or grasshopper-flavored bean. Or, it could have been the blast of sound suddenly issuing from the speakers that brought nearly everyone else to the floor. It was something loud, screaming, heavy; distinctly an American sound. Llewellyn shouted the lyrics out as the rest of the students kept staring at each other.  
  
The next song was a popular summer one by Celestina Warbeck that most students knew already. A general chatter broke out in the Hall as more people started moving to the more familiar music. The next ones were also well-known, and the dance started to heat up.  
  
Visilio was in his element as he mixed and remixed the songs into the heartbeat of the dance. He was almost more fun to watch than to listen to the music. Grinning the whole time, he spun records on his finger, foot, and finally his nose, as a grand finale to the students who watched him.  
  
The dance passed without any real incident until the first slow song. "Ladies' choice," announced Visilio into a microphone. Llewellyn grinned at Harry, and he couldn't help but smile back. They bended back and foward rather stiffly in time to the music, like Ron and Hermione beside them.  
  
Harry looked out over the rest of the floor. There was Seamus and Lavender, Dean and Parvati, Neville and Ginny, and a few other familiar couples. Harry recognized them from the Yule Ball. The rest of the school hung around, uneasy, at the edges of the Great Hall. A few of them partnered up and joined the rest of the couples. Harry didn't see Cho anywhere.  
  
A couple moved away, and Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson came into view. To see the two dancing together was a sickening sight. Crabbe, Goyle, and Millicent Bulstrode lingered in the shadows behind the two.  
  
They turned, and a blue light hit Malfoy's face. Harry noticed he looked a little sick himself, and held distance between himself and Pansy. Malfoy caught Harry's look, saw him with Llewellyn, and Harry almost saw him grimace. Harry turned away and pulled the tiniest bit closer to Llewellyn.  
  
The song ended, and another bass-heavy, thumping kind of tune came on. The couples pulled apart as the crowd standing on the edges faded back into the middle of the hall.  
  
"Thank you kindly, ma'am," said Ron to Hermione, in a stupid cowboy kind of voice.  
  
"This town ain't big enough for the two of us!" replied Harry, beaming.  
  
"What's going on up by the turn table?" asked Llewellyn. She pointed to a crowd standing around a person she couldn't see clearly.  
  
They made their way up to the knot of people. Colin Creevey was moving very erractically, almost jerkily, as he spun in a circle on his knees. He finished with almost a split, and the crowd cheered as Colin stood up. Shirley Malfoy appeared out of no where and stood on her hands. She went up and down like a fish a couple of times, with even more applaud from the crowd.  
  
"What in the world are they doing?" asked Ron, bewildered.  
  
"Break dancing, what do you think?" replied Llewellyn.  
  
Colin was not to be outdone. He grabbed the back of his head and his shin, and hopped up and down on his right foot while bringing his leg and head closer. The crowd yelled for a contest. Shirley went right through to a kneel, and she sent her legs flying around her in a circle as she jumped over them with her hands. It was quite an awesome sight.  
  
Colin was just about to reply with another move when McGonagall appeared. "Malfoy! Creevey! What do you think you're doing?" she clamored.  
  
"Aw, come on, Professor, we were just having some fun," replied Shirley exasperatedly.  
  
"That's enough from you, young lady," warned McGonagall. There were a few "Ooh"'s from the throng.  
  
Shirley frowned and stuck out her tongue.  
  
"Ten points from Slytherin!" shrieked McGonagall. "And I better not catch you making any more rude faces at any other professors, or else it'll be fifty!"  
  
McGonagall stormed out of the hall, students parting before her like she was a miracle worker.  
  
The crowd filled in the hole left by the two break dancers as a quieter song played. Harry heard Shirley say "What's eating her robes?" before she disappeared into her group of friends.  
  
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Llewellyn spent the next few songs hanging out on the left wall, watching the rest of the school. It was only after the next slow song, which Harry and Llewellyn decided to sit out of, that things started to really get interesting.  
  
"You're such a little kid!" came the scream of Pansy across the whole Hall.  
  
"Look who's talking, you brat!" replied Malfoy angrily.  
  
Even the music seemed to get quieter as more and more people piped down to watch Malfoy and Pansy's row. After they had been shouting at each other for what seemed like half and hour, Malfoy just stopped in mid- sentence, closed his mouth determinably, and left the Hall.  
  
Visilio gave the hall a moment of silence, and looked at his watch. "Last dance of the night, fellas," he announced, breaking the silence of the whole hall.  
  
"Llewellyn?" asked Harry.  
  
She seemed preoccupied. "One second, Harry," she announced, peering out of the front entrance.  
  
He looked back at Hermione and Ron. They shrugged. Llewellyn returned, gave Harry a quick smile, and came together for the last dance.  
  
"This is my favorite song," whispered Llewellyn.  
  
"What is it?" asked Harry.  
  
"'Enchanted by Moonlight', by Mora Jones," she answered. "It's her debut, and I'm already hankering to buy the CD." Harry nodded, closing his eyes. Llewellyn, not sensing a real response, added, "What do you think of it?"  
  
"It's nice," murmured Harry.  
  
They swayed, a little bit more freely than the first dance now they were warmed up. About three quarters of the song passed.  
  
"What do you think of Malfoy?" Harry asked.  
  
"Draco or Shirley?"  
  
"Draco."  
  
She paused for a moment. "He has nowhere to vent his feelings of frustration, so he places them in the form of slanderous messages to his school mates."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, it's obvious he's getting mentally abused by his parents' tyrannical power. Same thing with Shirley."  
  
"You're kidding, right?"  
  
"I feel sorry for him."  
  
"Sorry for Malfoy?" He asked it in a harsh, demanding kind of way.  
  
At this Llewellyn stepped away from him. "Come on, Harry, the guy just broke up with his girlfriend."  
  
"He's been nasty way before tonight, Llewellyn. You just don't understand."  
  
"I don't understand? I don't understand? You're the one who can't understand what kind of a position he's in. Malfoy needs some real help."  
  
"And you're the one who understands what kind of a position he's in?"  
  
Llewellyn's eyes flashed with anger, but tears soon started welling up. She tried forming words, but they just wouldn't come out. Finally, she just threw her hands down in frustration and ran crying out of the Great Hall.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Other than the bass of the song a world away, there was absolute silence in the dark halls where Llewellyn walked. She followed shadows and quiet footprints, finally coming to a section behind a swinging tapestry she was sure was not used often.  
  
It was a tiny, dusty passageway leading to an open door some four feet above the ground. Moonlight poured silver on the floor as a slight breeze moved the still air. She moved without a single sound revealing her presence.  
  
There was Malfoy, leaning on the wrought iron railing of the old balcony he was standing on. His back was hunched and his arms were crossed as he shook with a suppressed sob. Llewellyn stepped out onto the balcony.  
  
"Hey there, Draco," she called gently.  
  
He jumped and spun around, wiping away tears he hoped she hadn't seen glinting in the moonlight.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he demanded. Malfoy looked closer. "Llewellyn!" he commented, surprised. They looked at each other for a few seconds of silence.  
  
"Sorry about you and Pansy," said Llewellyn.  
  
"Oh, her." He waved his hand as if to brush off the thought. "It's not that important."  
  
"I heard you've been going out for two years?"  
  
"I can get over her." Malfoy turned back to the railing and the pearly light of the crescent moon. He hung his head for a moment, and turned back to Llewellyn.  
  
"How are you and Potter doing?"  
  
"Well, not so great, but..." She trailed off. "Okay, for the moment."  
  
"So I take it you didn't have a boyfriend or anything back in the States."  
  
"No one." She smiled. "But I did have a lot of crushes."  
  
She moved up to the railing alongside him. "It's a pretty night tonight."  
  
"Yeah," he replied. "It's not going to be like this for very much longer."  
  
They looked at the stars in more silence. Finally, Llewellyn took a chance.  
  
"You don't act like this around other people."  
  
He looked grimly down into the lake for a full minute before replying.  
  
"My father's involved in the Dark Arts." He shook his head. "My whole family is a great big bunch of crooks and rotten people. And I hate it!"  
  
He slammed his fist into his other hand.  
  
Llewellyn patted him on the back consolingly.  
  
"And I always have to act like we're the best. I don't want to. I can't do kind or courageous things like Potter. I can't be smart like Granger. I can't be dependable like Weasley. So, all I have left to be best in is to...to walk over everyone else." He looked at Llewellyn sadly. "I don't want to do it any more."  
  
She nodded.  
  
"What are you doing here, anyway?" continued Malfoy.  
  
Llewellyn sighed. "Harry and I just had a little fight. Nothing, really. But I wanted to come out here to talk to you."  
  
"Why?" He looked at her. "No one else in this school ever wants to talk to me, except maybe those two dimwits Vince and Greg."  
  
"That's because you don't let them," replied Llewellyn.  
  
"So, you're here as a kind of guidance counselor, right?"  
  
She laughed. "Draco, listen, I know you feel weird at informal things like this, when everyone wears Muggle clothes and you're left with your wizard robes. Same thing with me."  
  
He suddenly noticed that she was in her old white robes. "You're not saying you come from an old, crummy, wizarding family?"  
  
She nodded at his surprised expression. "I've been living at Columbia since I was four. My folks are happy with receiving a good report card at the end of the school year and an occasional letter or two."  
  
"You're at school during summer, too?"  
  
"Right."  
  
He looked at her closely.  
  
"I still can't believe someone actually giving a damn about my feelings after fifteen years. Why are you?"  
  
She returned his look.  
  
"Because you're the first to care about mine."  
  
They looked at each other for a long time. Suddenly, it seemed to dawn on them that they were nearly nose to nose. Llewellyn stepped back and looked down.  
  
"Draco, I can't do this. I'm...I'm still with Harry."  
  
He nodded, and did not ask why when she ran back inside.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
It was past midnight before Llewellyn slipped back into the Gryffindor common room. There were a few stragglers from the party crashed in the armchairs by the dying fire. She yawned and started up the spiral staircase into her dark dorm.  
  
"There you are!" A light sprang up in Hermione's lamp.  
  
Llewellyn jumped. There was Hermione, looking very anxious and worried, sitting on the end of her bed.  
  
"What are you doing up?" asked Llewellyn.  
  
"Waiting for you, what do you think?" replied Hermione, grinning. The smile faded. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine." Llewellyn sat down. "How's Harry?"  
  
Hermione shrugged. "He looked pretty flustered after you left. He thinks...you ran after Malfoy."  
  
"Oh...." Llewellyn went to add something, but decided against it.  
  
"Where have you been for the past hour, anyway?"  
  
"Just milling around the school. Thinking."  
  
It brought a big wave of acid to her stomach to lie to Hermione. She let it slide.  
  
"Thinking about what?"  
  
"Er...." She looked around the dimly lit dormitory. "Life."  
  
"Do you want someone else to talk to?"  
  
"No, thanks, I already have -" She stopped herself and thought quickly. "I already have got it pretty much sorted out."  
  
"You've got your life sorted out?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Sure?"  
  
"Yeah. Listen, can we just get some shut eye already?"  
  
The last thing Llewellyn saw before the light went out was Hermione's bewildered expression. 


	6. The Handbook of Modern Dark Magic

Chapter Six  
  
  
  
The Handbook of Modern Dark Magic  
  
Things at Hogwarts came in at such a frantic, flurrying pace that Llewellyn could hardly believe that two months had mysteriously passed. She and Harry were at a kind of stalemate truce, keeping it at a friendship kind of level but still referring to each other as boy and girl friends. It was a good place to be sitting in.  
  
It was a cold and chilly beginning of November that reminded everyone that winter snows were on their way. The Gryffindors changed their post- Transfiguration route to go to the library for Visilio's class. Finally, after a month of discussion, they were going to look at some books on the Dark Arts in the Restricted Section.  
  
Hermione's old bookish ways resurfaced as she entered the library, nearly skipping with joy at getting her hands on something secret, and special. The hair on Harry's neck raised as Visilio motioned the class to gather around the opening of the Restricted Section.  
  
"Today we are finally going to be researching some books in the Restricted Section. As you know, this is a very special time for all of you, as you have not even been near the Restricted Section. Isn't that right, Irma?"  
  
The vulture-like librarian looked ready to scavenge Visilio. "That's Madame Pince to you."  
  
Visilio raised his hands. "So-o-or-ry."  
  
Ron nudged Harry.  
  
"Anyway," he continued, turning to the class. " You will need to break into groups of four or five and I will give your group a different book on beginner Dark Hexes. Each person chooses one hex from the book and a two-foot essay on when it is used and how to deflect it will be due in two weeks."  
  
Harry, Ron, Llewellyn, and Hermione nodded at each other.  
  
Visilio walked into the Restricted Section, visibly stiffening and slowing his pace as he scanned the dusty shelves before the class. He came to a bookcase in the back and selected five titles. He returned with the volumes and ushered the class groups towards the worktables.  
  
"Here you go, Hexes that Harm & Curses that Kill, a rather grisly one, if I remember properly. I'll give you Dusk and Darkness; Shadows and Shades, and you guys can take the Handbook of Modern Dark Magic." Visilio handed Hermione a small black book with silver lettering and decoration. Most striking was a life-sized three-headed, striped, black and silver snake coiled on the cover with glowing green eyes. It was most eerie and beautiful at the same time. She eagerly sat down at the table, and Ron, Harry, and Llewellyn joined her.  
  
She opened to the first page. "A Handbook of Modern Dark Magic, by Professor Pullus Grindelwald. Printed in 1901."  
  
"Not exactly modern," commented Ron. Hermione turned the page and continued.  
  
"History of Dark Magic, pages 7 to 132. Notable Names...Potions...oh, here, Hexes, page 376." Harry's headache worsened as she went deeper into the book, and he grimaced as he realized it was his scar burning again. He rubbed it off-handedly, hoping the throbbing pains would cease or he would get used to them and quick. "Here, Llewellyn, you can take the Stolidus Hex. Ron, you can do the Aufero Aetas Hex. Harry, you'll work on the Virga Dilabor Hex, and I will take the Esurio Infinitas Hex."  
  
"You guys can have the book first, I'll do this next weekend," announced Harry, still absent-mindedly rubbing his forehead.  
  
"What are you doing this week -" began Ron, then suddenly he remembered. "Hey, your first Quidditch match!"  
  
Harry smiled. "Practices have been really good with Katie as captain. And our new Keeper, Lawrence Bone, is dynamite."  
  
Llewellyn finally tore her eyes from the silver snake on the Handbook's cover and looked at Harry. "I've heard all about Quidditch from the moment I got here. I'm really excited, but I still haven't a clue on how to play."  
  
"Wait right there," said Hermione. She stood up and sprinted to a shelf somewhere in the front. Scanning the titles quickly, she came to a green volume and tugged it out of the case. She returned with Quidditch through the Ages by Kennilworthy Whisp and handed it to Llewellyn.  
  
"Hey, I wanna read that too," added Ron. "I'll have it when you're done."  
  
A loud Shh! from Madame Pince silenced the group, and they copied information on their hexes quietly for the rest of the period.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Saturday morning was strangely warm and a bit humid for the time of year. Harry ate breakfast early and got into the locker room before anyone else arrived. His headache had mercifully disappeared, but it would appear again without fail whenever that book came near him. Very odd.  
  
Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, and Alicia Spinnet walked into the locker room, with rather grim faces. Harry's stomach tightened at the sight of them. He had been surprisingly calm considering it was the first game without Oliver. The new keeper, Lawrence, was a fourth-year, finally taking Harry out as the youngest. He was half-and-half, and he had been working all summer with his father for the Quidditch trials. It was apparent as he spun around the goal posts no-handedly and blocked nearly every shot by the Chasers like he was born to do it.  
  
Lawrence walked into the room, followed by the final two members of the team, Fred and George Weasley. They were seventh-years now and Harry noticed that they goofed around less than ever. The team all changed and Katie gathered them to the front, right inside the door leading onto the pitch. She took a deep breath.  
  
"Men -"  
  
"And women," added Angelina, smiling.  
  
"This is it," said George.  
  
"The big one," said Fred.  
  
"The one you've all been waiting for," finished Harry, grinning.  
  
"Slytherin has a new captain, too: Adrian Pucey. Let's show them what a girl leader can do," pressed Alicia.  
  
"Are you ready for your first game, Lawrence?" asked Katie.  
  
"I've been ready since I sat on a broomstick when I was four," he answered steadfastly, but his paper-white face showed he felt more than a little giddy.  
  
"Let's go already!" called Angelina. They walked onto the pitch.  
  
"What did your first game feel like, Harry?" asked Lawrence shakily.  
  
"Exactly like what you feel like right now," replied Harry confidently. "Don't worry! You'll do great. The other Keeper loves Starfish and Stick, and you know Angelina's made you do it a thousand times so she could score at any angle. Just keep the ball out of the hoops like you always do and we'll win, no sweat."  
  
"Thanks." Lawrence smiled and gulped as he looked up at the stands, a lot more intimidating now they were full of people. The opposing Slytherin team in green was on the pitch already. Harry saw Malfoy, looking rather solemn instead of his usual sneering expression. He thought of Llewellyn, and peered up in the stands for a sign of any of his friends. Two redheads, Ron and Ginny, waved madly to him, and he waved back, feeling a little better.  
  
The teams kicked off from the pitch, and Harry noticed Lawrence was shaking. He hoped that his nerves would calm down in time to block the Slytherin Chasers, who looked as if they had grown over the summer. Adrian Pucey nodded to everyone on his team and they eyed Madame Hooch hungrily, eager to snatch the Quaffle and begin the game. Katie looked around at the Gryffindors, all of them eager and ready to go. Madame Hooch blew her whistle and threw up the Quaffle.  
  
"And the Quaffle is snatched out of the air by Adrian Pucey and passed to - wait, interception by captain Katie Bell -thrown to Angelina Johnson -Bludger nearly gets her, nice swerve -oh, she's disoriented, it looks like, yes the Quaffle has been yanked out of her grasp by Martin Higgs -going straight towards goal post -OUCH! -beautiful Bludger shot by one of the Weasleys gets Higgs and the Quaffle is dropped -nice pickup by Alicia Spinnet, Quaffle now headed towards other goal -Hawkshead formation by Gryffindor Chasers -it looks as if Keeper Gary Duluth is attempting Starfish and Stick -Bludger aimed straight at Alicia by Wilson and nearly gets her -Pass to Angelina, who moves into goal zone -Duluth is now in Starfish and Stick -come on, you can get it - GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"  
  
Harry did a loop-the-loop high in the sky. All that practice came in handy! He came in a little closer and checked again for the Snitch, keeping an eye on Malfoy. A Bludger came pelting out of the Slytherin goal zone, but George was quicker and slammed it towards center field where the Quaffle was. "Good luck!" he called, flying down into the fray. No sign of the Snitch yet.  
  
The Quaffle came close to the Gryffindor goal zone, Martin Higgs in possession and the other two Chasers flying close around him for protection. Lawrence tightened his grip on the broomstick with his legs and gulped as the other Chasers veered off and Higgs entered the goal zone.  
  
The whole audience seemed to hold their breath with Lawrence as Higgs stared him down, hovering with the Quaffle and ready to shoot, for what seemed like an eternity, but was only really half a minute. Finally, he moved, and Lawrence showed his lightening-fast reflexes that only hours on hours of practice could have developed.  
  
Higgs shot forward and threw the ball towards the right hoop, and Lawrence moved sideways and flung both of his hands out. Higgs snatched the Quaffle out of its path and swerved to the left hoop. Lawrence corkscrewed upside down - with no hands - and snatched the faked Quaffle out of the air. All this happened in the course of less than five seconds, and the stands went wild. Lawrence was positively beaming as he passed the Quaffle to Katie, who began towards the other goal post. She was stopped by Hooch's whistle and Lawrence's face fell. Was there a foul?  
  
Harry had been watching the Higgs-Lawrence standoff along with the rest of the stadium when he noticed movement below him. Wary of Bludgers, he moved out of its path when he suddenly realized it was the Snitch itself. He looked around quickly. Everyone, including Malfoy, was entranced with what was happening at the Gryffindor goal post. Harry did a swift dive and deftly cupped the Snitch in his right hand just as Lawrence blocked the shot, and he didn't know if the crowds were cheering for him or for Lawrence. Madame Hooch saw Harry, blew her whistle, and the game was over, Gryffindor 170 to Slytherin 0.  
  
There was a party in the common room. Ron and Ginny took over Fred and George's job of providing snacks, quickly running down a secret passageway behind a tapestry and into a coat of arms that opened up near the kitchens. The house-elves were more than willing to provide them with barrels of crisps and chocolates. They were nearly ready to bake them a five-foot sheet cake with the Gryffindor lion on it when Ron thought of Hermione and decided to refuse. Ron and Ginny came to the Fat Lady at the same time as the Quidditch team arrived, and everyone cheered either for the team or the food.  
  
"Bloody brilliant!" someone shouted.  
  
"People will be talking about that one for years!" commented someone else. With a strange feeling in his stomach, Harry realized that they weren't talking about him at all.  
  
Everyone patted Lawrence on the back. "If you guard our posts like that all year, the House Cup will be ours before you can say 'Quidditch'," announced Katie beamishly.  
  
"How in the world did you manage to learn that one?" asked Fred.  
  
"What broom do you have, anyway?" added George.  
  
"I didn't learn it, I just...did it." Lawrence shrugged, smiling. "And I have a really nice Nimbus 2000."  
  
Harry suddenly found himself hating Lawrence.  
  
"That was really, really cool!" Llewellyn appeared out of the crowd at Harry's side. "Not as cool as Quodpot 2000, of course, but that was really cool!"  
  
"Did you see me catch the Snitch?" he asked expectantly.  
  
"I saw you going down, that's about it. But did you see that standoff? Man! Hooch wants to get that made into an official move, the Lawrence Bone Loop, like all the other things in Quidditch Through the Ages. That's a really great book. Did you know that the Bludgers used to be called 'Blooders', and that capturing the Snitch isn't the only way to end the game, both captains can consent to end it?"  
  
Harry didn't open his mouth; he was afraid he would either say something horrible or throw up right there because he felt so sick. He elbowed his way through the crowd and went to his dormitory alone. He was mad at Lawrence for being Lawrence, and mad at himself for being mad at Lawrence. It was an altogether strange mixture of envy and embarrassment, and he hated it. And that headache was acting up again...  
  
He stopped himself. Why was his scar hurting? He looked around the dormitory and soon discovered the cause: the Handbook was on Ron's nightstand, along with about a foot of writing. Maybe doing schoolwork would help Harry calm down - never mind the pain.  
  
Moving the parchment aside, he remarked again at how lifelike the silver snake was. Ignoring the stabbing pains in his head, he picked up the book.  
  
You! the voice howled.  
  
Harry dropped the book on the floor in surprise and alarm.  
  
"Did you just say that?" he asked. The six green eyes glittered wickedly in the light but the book did nothing. He stared at it for a moment and picked it up again.  
  
I knew you would be here eventually.  
  
"Stop that!"  
  
Harry quickly put the book on the end table and covered it with Ron's parchment. He stole another glance at it before leaving the dormitory, worried more at the moment about the Handbook than Lawrence. 


	7. Shakeup and Breakup

Chapter Seven  
  
Shakeup and Breakup  
  
Harry and Llewellyn sat in the two closest chairs to the fire, finishing schoolwork for the upcoming week. Llewellyn was explaining to Harry about Quodpot 2000, her favorite sport from home.  
  
"There's two teams, of six players each. The Quod is a small red ball about five inches in diameter that has been enchanted to randomly flash and emit a loud scream. It used to be an altered Quaffle, but there had been an increasing number of injuries due to the fact that it would actually explode."  
  
"Weird!" said Harry.  
  
"So are your Bludgers. Nasty little things, aren't they? Anyway, two of each team play defense and are called Blockers. The remaining four play offense and are called Runners. But everyone calls the Blockers 'Potties' and the Runners 'Quoddies'.  
  
When the Quod goes off, the team touching the Quod gets a Bamp. If it is in the air, it is whoever touched it last that receives the Bamp. Both Blockers and Runners are not allowed to touch the Quod in their hands. They must use semi-spheres called Shells, about seven inches in diameter, to both hold and throw the Quod. With me so far?"  
  
"I guess."  
  
She smiled and continued. "A point is added to a grand total by each individual Runner who catches the Quod in his or her Shell, no matter what side he or she is on. All the points in this 'grand total' are collected by the one team who throws the Quod in the Pot, and the grand total begins a new score. The game ends when a team collects five Bamps. The other team recieves an extra fifty points. That's about it."  
  
"What position do you play?"  
  
"I'm usually a Pottie - Defense. Just like your Keeper. Maybe Lawrence'll teach me the Loop sometime."  
  
It was a week after the Quidditch match, but Harry still found himself getting upset over him. "Will everyone just stop talking about Lawrence, Lawrence, Lawrence?" he replied rather angrily.  
  
"You know what, Harry?" Llewellyn said with a sudden coldness. "I think you're being selfish."  
  
That was the absolute end of his rope. "Selfish? Me!? I spend my summers getting yelled at or ignored or tormented, with little food, no friends, and next to no contact with the wizarding world!"  
  
She turned on him. "Do you want to know how I spend my summers? I spend my summers at school because my parents are too busy to have me come home!"  
  
"My parents are dead!!" Harry screamed.  
  
"And I bet you anything they loved you anyway! Mine are alive and I know that they don't!!!" Her face was livid as she stood up and ran to the doorway. "It's over, Harry, it's over!"  
  
"Where are you going?" he demanded.  
  
"I'm going to someone who understands. Someone who cares more about me than you ever could!!"  
  
She turned around and said one more thing before slamming the portrait against the doorway.  
  
"Malfoy!!!"  
  
The whole common room was in shock along with Harry.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Llewellyn stormed along the hallways, nearly shaking in her anger. This wasn't the first time Harry had got on her nerves, but she would be sure to make it the last time. She tore through a tapestry and began up a flight of spiral stairs before she realized she had no way of getting to Malfoy. They would meet tonight at the balcony like they did every Saturday after dinner, but he could be anywhere in the school at the moment.  
  
She sat down on the top step. What she really needed, almost more than someone to talk to, was something from home to comfort her. Suddenly, she remembered a place where she could get both.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Matthew Visilio was grading papers on Unforgivable Curses and listening to his favorite rock band, The Lethifold Losers, when there came a knock on his office door. "Come in," he called, not looking up.  
  
Llewellyn ran in, looking lost and awfully sad. "Oh, Professor Visilio, I -"  
  
He looked up and saw her flustered, teary-eyed face. "Please, just call me Matt for now." Standing up from his desk, he turned off his music. "Is there a problem?" He shook his head and walked in front of his desk, motioning for her to take a seat. "Well, of course there is. Stupid question. 'Sup?"  
  
"Well...my boyfriend and I just broke up."  
  
Matt grimaced and sat down next to her.  
  
"It was horrible. I can't believe myself. We were screaming at each other, and somehow our parents got into it. His are dead - I just feel terrible!" She started sobbing and put her face in her hands. "...And, I'm homesick. How stupid is that?"  
  
He shrugged. "It's not stupid. To tell you the truth, so am I." He looked at the floor as she wiped her face on her robes. "Hey, Llewellyn. How about tonight we have a little party for ourselves?" She looked at him strangely. "How long has it been since you've had a real cheeseburger or french fries?"  
  
Llewellyn grinned. "Too long, of course!"  
  
Matt took out his wand, and with a quick flick, suddenly festooned the office with red and white streamers and blue and white stars. "I think Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures Teacher, has a grill somewhere. Let's go visit him, shall we?"  
  
Llewellyn left the office practically buoyant, all thoughts of Harry or Malfoy out of her head entirely.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harry was fuming. He stared at the back of the Fat Lady's portrait and turned, shaking, to the rest of the common room. It wasn't as full as it usually was but there were still a fat lot of people. They all looked at him, some blinking furiously and most with mouths agape. There was silence. He flayed his arms in a helpless shrug and turned angrily to the homework he and Llewellyn had left behind. The regular low buzz of the room resumed.  
  
He threw himself into the chair and put his head in his hands. Malfoy. Malfoy! So she did run after him at the dance, the tramp. Well, it was all over anyway, and under no circumstances was it a case of her solely dumping him.  
  
Malfoy!  
  
Harry looked around desperately for some sign of relief, but Ron and Hermione had skipped off earlier in the day to parts unknown. He didn't know when they would be back and he didn't feel like waiting for them. Angrily, he shoveled all his homework into his bag and stormed into the dormitory. He was sorely tempted to throw Llewellyn's report on the Stolidus Hex into the fire but decided to just leave it in a pile on the floor.  
  
He thanked his lucky stars the dormitory was empty and prayed no one would come in. Throwing himself onto the bed, he buried his face into his pillow and hoped that he wasn't crying. Ill thoughts swirled through his head. How could Llewellyn do that to him? Rotten to the core, both of them.  
  
Upset, are we?  
  
"I don't want to talk."  
  
Now, now. What are we worked up over?  
  
"Go away."  
  
My, we are tense.  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
Don't you wish you hadn't brought your parents into it?  
  
Harry sat up and looked down at his backpack. The Handbook was lying on top, and he was sure it was lodged securely between 1001 Magical Herbs and Fungi and a stack of parchment just a minute ago, when he had brought it up.  
  
"How do you know about my parents?"  
  
I know more about your parents than you do, Harry Potter.  
  
The quiet throb of the headache swelled into a sharp pain.  
  
Do you want to see something?  
  
Harry knew he should have said no instantly, but something stopped him. Not sure if he was under his own power or if he being guided, he leaned forward and picked up the Handbook.  
  
"What is it?" he asked the snake.  
  
Watch.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The room was yellow, dimly lit by a latern blazing low in the corner. She rocked the cradle but the child would not stop whimpering, as if it were an animal cornered by a vicious predator. Tenderly, she lifted her son out of the cradle and rocked him in his arms. A gate creaked outside ominously in the wind, and she felt afraid.  
  
"James?" He appeared in the hall, looking concerned and a little worried. "I know it's just the wind, but could you please just go check the front gate for me?" He nodded in understandment and began to walk down the stairs, his hand securely wrapped around the mahogany wand in his pocket.  
  
He did not get a chance to open the front door, for it was suddenly blown off its hinges in a blast of greenish-gold light. A tall man in a black cloak thundered into the house as an evil wind blew from the doorway.  
  
"James!" she screamed, holding the baby tight in her grip.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Harry!"  
  
With a start Harry jumped up. He was bathed in a cold sweat and his breath came in short gasps. The four-posters of his dormitory appeared and Neville was there, his normally pale face looking positively pasty.  
  
"Harry, are you all right?"  
  
He blinked a couple of times and instinctively shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He felt something wet beneath his finger and Neville gasped.  
  
"Oh, Harry...your scar...it's bleeding..."  
  
"What?" He ran to the mirror, and, sure enough, his normally pale reddish- white scar was scarlet and dripping all over his forehead. "Oh, man..." He grabbed a handful of tissues from a box on Dean's wardrobe and mopped his brow.  
  
"I heard what happened," began Neville.  
  
"Just...now...?"  
  
"Yeah." He took a deep breath. "That must have been horrible."  
  
Harry realized he was talking about what had happened in the common room, and wondered where the Handbook was. He looked around quickly but it was no where to be seen.  
  
"So I came up, to talk if you wanted to, and you were just...well, you were just kind of thrashing about on your bed. It looked like you were having a nightmare. Did you mind that I woke you?"  
  
"No, it's okay. Thanks, actually." Harry looked down at the bloodied tissues and shook his head in disbelief. It was just so weird...Malfoy...and now this....  
  
"Well, if you don't want to talk...I guess, I'll just go." Neville looked awkward for a moment and turned to leave. Just before he disappeared, he turned and looked back at Harry.  
  
"Nice Snitch catch last week." He grinned and shut the door. 


	8. Prelude to the Ball

Chapter Eight  
  
  
  
Prelude To The Ball  
  
"Don't worry, Llewellyn. You made the right decision." She looked at him skeptically in the light of the blue fire they had conjured in the cold night. "Oh, all right, not in the right way of course, but it had to be done."  
  
"Not had to be done. I wish it weren't done."  
  
"Then we would spend the rest of the semester meeting here in secrecy while you kept Potter at an arm's length?"  
  
The semester. The word echoed in her brain cruelly. Only one semester at Hogwarts. Less than a month, and then it's Rosalind here, and she would go back to Columbia. Back to where she had spent her whole life...where she was friends with everyone...but nothing more. She shuddered, and Draco, thinking she was cold, put his arm around her. She leaned into him, appreciating his more-than-friendly warmth in the November air.  
  
"Well, are you going to answer me or not?" he asked.  
  
Llewellyn closed her eyes and smiled. "Well, maybe it was a good thing. I got a cheeseburger out of the deal."  
  
He laughed, and then looked at her soulfully. "I think it was a good thing," he whispered into her hair. "A very good thing."  
  
Her stomach suddenly twisted into a series of knots. He's going to kiss me! her mind shouted, neither in caution or excitement.  
  
"Wait," she answered, putting her finger on his lips. "You have to ask me first."  
  
He kissed her finger. "Ask you what?"  
  
She said nothing, only looking at him expectantly.  
  
"Oh, oh, right, right. Llewellyn Euryale, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?"  
  
"Just the Yule Ball?" she joked, pouting.  
  
"Where else would we go?" he replied. "Fine, will you go out with me?"  
  
"I'd love to. I really, really would." She bit her lip and looked at the fire. "Just one problem...."  
  
"What?" he asked, taking her hand.  
  
"I...I don't know how to kiss."  
  
"Let's teach each other," he murmured, taking her into his embrace.  
  
Llewellyn didn't get back to the dormitory until well past midnight.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"I can't believe you did that."  
  
Llewellyn blinked and looked up at the top of her four-poster, the morning sunlight hurting her eyes. "Huh?" she asked. Looking around, she saw Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati, all looking at her reproachfully.  
  
"That was just so wrong," added Parvati.  
  
"What was?" Llewellyn was confused.  
  
Lavender rolled her eyes. "What you did yesterday? More specifically, last night?"  
  
It all came back to her in a rush, followed by a sinking feeling. "Great. Now you're all against me." She rubbed her eyes and put on her glasses. "How do you know?" she asked, getting out of bed.  
  
"It's all over the entire school. And we're not against you. We just think what you did was wrong," Hermione replied.  
  
"Fat lot of help that gives me," muttered Llewellyn. She wondered who had snitched. Probably not Draco...maybe someone had seen them...they were out there for hours with a blue fire blazing.  
  
"Listen, you still have a chance with Harry. Just say you're sorry."  
  
Llewellyn crossed her arms. "I'll say I'm sorry, but I'm not going to get back with Harry. I'm with Draco now."  
  
The three rolled their eyes and looked at each other.  
  
"Maybe you didn't get the memo?" asked Lavender. "Malfoy is trouble. A conceited, irritating brat. You dumped Harry Potter, the best Seeker and the defeater of the Dark Lord, for him?"  
  
"Hey!" Llewellyn shouted. "You like Harry so much, why don't you date him?"  
  
Hermione looked at Parvati and Lavender, then back at Llewellyn. "All right. Date Malfoy. But don't say we didn't warn you." She forced herself into a smile. "Now, why don't we all go down to breakfast?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harry kept telling himself "make it through breakfast and you'll do fine". So many people were either consoling him or jeering him that he actually found himself talking about Lawrence with Ron. It was really only the younger years doing the gossiping; the older years couldn't care less about the personal lives of their juniors.  
  
After breakfast, Harry was trudging back to the Gryffindor dormitory, Ron bringing him back to earth with blather about the Chudley Cannons, when someone tapped his shoulder. He turned around.  
  
It was Malfoy.  
  
"I need to talk to you," he said, grabbing the Gryffindor's arm and pulling him to the wall. Harry nodded to Ron to keep going and fixed his gaze on the Slytherin.  
  
"What?" snapped Harry, crossing his arms. "Want to gloat or something?"  
  
Malfoy sighed and shook his head. "Listen, Potter - Harry," he began. "I've been talking a lot with Llewellyn.  
  
"I know that," snarled Harry.  
  
"Listen to me, please. We've been talking and I know I've done some bad things to you before. So I just want to say...Sorry."  
  
Harry stared at him, dumfounded. Were his ears working properly?  
  
"I'm sorry. I really am. I don't think we could ever become friends. But I don't want to be enemies any more."  
  
"I don't believe you." Harry was very sure this was some kind of trick.  
  
Malfoy glared at him. "Look, do you really want to spend the rest of your time at Hogwarts with me down your back? I'm becoming a different person. If you want me to keep aggravating you just because of you're too damn proud of yourself to accept a truce -"  
  
"All right, all right. But don't start getting all chummy with me. You're still rotten to the core."  
  
Malfoy smiled emptily. "Unfortunately so."  
  
Llewellyn appeared behind Malfoy...was he Draco now?... and Harry was glad to see her.  
  
"I'm sorry, too, Harry." She shrugged and rubbed her forehead. "I wish we didn't have such a bad breakup. Can we still be friends and all?"  
  
"Sure." Harry was feeling a bit better than he was that morning. At the rate things were going, he half expected Uncle Vernon to materialize and start apologizing for everything that happened when Harry wasn't at Hogwarts. "C'mon, let's go to the Common room and finish our essays."  
  
Llewellyn and Draco smiled, kissing briefly before he began down a side corridor. She followed Harry, nearly skipping as they walked to the dorm. "You know, Draco isn't really a bad person all in all. Maybe you two will end up being friends!"  
  
"Yeah, maybe," answered Harry, laughing, "if I can just get over my reflex to puke every time I see his face."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
November passed, and with it went the whole public fuss about Harry, Llewellyn, and Draco. Soon, it was December, and a blanket of snow covered the school grounds. The Yule Ball was coming, and coming fast.  
  
It was a week before Christmas and the Yule Ball when Harry, Llewellyn, Hermione, and Ron were all sitting in the cozy Common Room, right in front of the fire place. The two girls were discussing what they were wearing to the Ball as Ron and Harry played a game of chess.  
  
"So," began Ron, moving a pawn forward. "Who are you going to ask?" Harry thought for a minute and moved his rook. "Cho Chang," he answered, somewhat surely.  
  
"Is that a wise move?"  
  
"What, Cho Chang? Or chess?"  
  
"Both," replied Ron, grinning. He took the rook with his knight. "But seriously...if I were her...would I want to go with anyone?"  
  
"Monkey trumpets, I'm just asking her to a dance. It's not like I'm going to marry her." Harry moved his bishop, an action he instantly regretted as Ron moved his knight again.  
  
"Checkmate." His players did a little victory dance as Harry's marched sullenly off the board.  
  
"Black," answered Llewellyn. "You?"  
  
"Rose." Hermione smiled. "Ron has pale blue dress robes so I shopped to match."  
  
"What do I have?" asked Ron, sliding his pieces into a battered leather case.  
  
"Pale blue dress robes that I'm matching," repeated Hermione.  
  
"Hermi, if I had sulfur yellow dress robes, you'd find some way to match them," replied Ron, sliding next to her on the carpet.  
  
"Don't make me shop for a lime green gown now," groaned Hermione.  
  
"I won't make you do anything you don't want to," said Ron. He began to put his hand around her waist, which Llewellyn saw, too, but he stopped and they all looked expectantly at Harry.  
  
"Oh, come on, I know you're all so worried about me. Just act like you're going out, for Pete's sake, and don't bother about me."  
  
Ron put his hand around Hermione's waist and she cuddled up to him. Llewellyn grinned and made herself more comfortable in the squashy chair.  
  
"So, when are you going to ask her?" she asked Harry.  
  
He remembered all the other times he had asked someone out, whether in vain or not. It had always been hasty, on the spur of the moment, and embarassing to think about afterwards. He was determined to not let it happen this time.  
  
"Soon," he answered. "If you were going to be asked to a Yule Ball, how yould you want to be?"  
  
An image of the night Draco asked her flashed into her mind, and she smiled. "Well...it depends on what you want to go with her as - date, boyfriend/girlfriend, just friends?"  
  
"Just friends."  
  
"Well, your only problem is that you aren't friends." Llewellyn sighed. "I guess it would be okay for you to just ask her next time you see her - in the halls, at dinner, et cetera."  
  
Harry thought about it for a moment. "Dinner sounds good. I'll catch her before she sits down to eat."  
  
"Eating? Food?" Ron pretended to come to attention. Hermione grinned and rolled her eyes.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harry saw Cho as soon as she came into the Great Hall, surrounded by her friends. He waved to her, and she waved back, a little confused. Harry pushed through the crowds of arriving students and came over to her.  
  
"Hello, Harry, what can I do for you?" she asked, a little surprised.  
  
"I wanted to know if you'd go to the ball with me - as a friend." There. He had said it. He felt himself turn slightly red and hoped no one was looking at them.  
  
"Oh...er...." She looked away. "Actually, I was planning on not going -" She looked back at him as his face fell, swallowed, and seemed to come to a conclusion. "But," she added quickly, "since you've asked me....yes." She sounded determined, and Harry understood what was she was going through.  
  
"Great. I'll see you Friday if I don't see you before then."  
  
"Bye, Harry." Cho grinned and Harry's stomach did a flip.  
  
He made his way back to the table and flashed everyone a thumbs up. His friends responded with a smattering of jokingly polite applause, and Harry ate his dinner with a much lighter feeling than before. 


	9. Christmas Day

Chapter Nine  
  
  
  
Christmas Day  
  
The first thing Harry noticed in the pile of presents at the foot of his bed was a small rectangular package wrapped in bright yellow paper. Written on it in neat small capitals - Llewellyn's handwriting - was the message, "Maybe now your hair won't be so unruly for tonight? Just kidding, although you might want to use it to tame your cowlick. Llewellyn & Draco." It was a bottle of Sleek-Eazy Hair Potion. Harry laughed and wondered if it was strong enough to combat generations of crazy Potter-hair genes.  
  
Other presents he had gotten included a rather thick book on chess, from Ron, of course, and a box of little red Snitches from Hermione, "For individual player practice, NOT licensed for official game play." From home came a shard of something ceramic. Professor Visilio had given each of his students a little card - with a moving picture, of course - of a Dark creature, wizard, witch, or curse. Harry had someone named Professor Pullus Grindelwald, who, he realized suddenly, was the author of The Handbook of Modern Dark Magic.  
  
He was struck by a sudden fear. Where was that book, anyway? He quickly searched through his trunk, wardrobe, and even all around his four-poster, as Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Neville opened up their presents. He couldn't find it anywhere, but he was trying to make it look like he was indifferently searching for a pair of socks to wear so the others wouldn't be suspicious. Was it just coincidence that he receieved that particular card from Visilio?  
  
"Thanks so much, Harry!" called Ron, clutching the new velvet-lined chess piece box. "I guess my little players were complaining loud enough you heard them!"  
  
Harry grinned. Actually, he had watched as Ron's ancient box went from deplorable to worse throughout the years, and since he had such a winning team, Harry felt that they deserved a nicer box. Maybe after this, his pieces would be a little nicer to Harry's much younger ones.  
  
As Ron transferred his players, Harry noticed a larger, flat, silver box under all his other opened presents. Curious, he unwrapped it slowly, and saw that it came from Gladrags Wizard Wear. He opened the box and saw a folded, dark purple something along with a note. "I forgot to ask you what you're wearing to the Ball, so I bought something for both of us. You can wear it over your dress robe. Meet you in front of the painting of Wendelin the Weird on the first floor at eight o'clock. - Cho."  
  
Harry unfolded the purple cloth and saw it was sort of a poncho-vest that fit over his robes, with a little golden Snitch embroidered at the bottom. He smiled and put it on a shelf of his wardrobe for later.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Has anyone seen my clear polish?" called Lavender frantically at seven o'clock.  
  
"Yeah, it's under your bed," replied Hermione, brushing out her now- smooth hair calmly.  
  
"Which goes better with my ultramarine dress, black or nude pantyhose?" asked Parvati.  
  
"It's floor-length, silly." Lavender grinned, much calmer now. "Where's Llewellyn?" she wondered aloud.  
  
"I'm in here," came a muffled reply from her closed four-poster, which, the girls could see now, was lit from the inside.  
  
"You're changing in there?" asked Parvati, surprised.  
  
"I kind of transfigured the bed into a dresser and the pillow into a mirror. It's nice, actually."  
  
"Um...can we see?" replied Hermione.  
  
"No...no, no, no. Not yet. Give me another half an hour, okay?"  
  
Hermione, Parvati, and Lavender looked at each other and shrugged.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harry re-adjusted the hem of his dress robe, and bit his lip, looking around for Cho at the painting of Wendelin the Weird. Just when he thought about going up and re-joining Ron and the rest of the Gryffindors, Cho appeared.  
  
She was wearing light blue robes, with the dark purple Snitch cloth as a kind of bodice. Harry gulped and grinned. She was even more beautiful than he had remembered, and they were going to have the whole night together -  
  
-- As friends, he reminded himself gently. He chivalrously extended his arm to her and they walked up to the Great Hall, which was already open and full of students. They made their way among the smaller tables to one in the corner, where Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Seamus, Lavender, Dean, and Parvati were already sitting. The music was again provided by Visillio's speakers and records, but he was obviously taming his music and himself from having too much fun at the formal Ball.  
  
Hermione had put up her hair again, but this year she was wearing a simpler, smaller rose-pink dress that matched Ron's baby-blue dress robes perfectly. Harry reflected for a moment on their differences, on their horrible, long arguments in third and fourth year, and when they first met on the train five years ago. They had moved their chairs right next to each other and were in each other's arms. Harry smiled at seeing both of them happy...really, past all their differences, they were perfect for each other.  
  
"I'm so sorry I was late," said Cho, and Harry gladly looked into her eyes as she spoke. "Meredith's hair was going haywire and I was the only one who could get it to stay up. Not like yours tonight," she admitted, patting Harry's hair. He had used the hair potion and, amazingly enough, he had managed to smooth it down.  
  
"It probably won't last an hour," he replied, laughing. He thought of who had given the present to him and wondered where they were.  
  
"Hey, Hermione," he asked, "Where's Llewellyn?"  
  
"Ooh. Don't ask. I think she had an ugly dress or something, because she refused to come out of her four-poster while we were still in the room."  
  
"Weird," said Harry, and he looked around the Great Hall.  
  
It was just then that the Great Hall doors opened, and an older student couple walked in. The man was wearing long, frocked dress robes with a high collar, black, with accents of pale silvery-gold, and with a crest on his chest of an M surrounded by snakes. The woman was wearing a black dress with a full skirt of the same pale-silvery gold color as parts of his dress robes and hair, with her black hair piled on top of her head and eyes in heavy black makeup. She also had a high collar, with black wristlets on her arms, and a silvery-gold snake wound up the front of her dress. On her throat was a coat of arms, half dark blue bars, and and the other a solid blood red.  
  
The rest of the students didn't pay the two much attention, but Harry was perplexed. He had never seen them before. Who were they? Maybe they weren't students -- friends of Dumbledore's or someone else. He asked Cho if she recognized them, but she shook her head no. They were very surprised to see the two walking towards their table, and as the man held the chair for the woman, it suddenly came to him -  
  
"Mal - Draco? Llewellyn?" he asked, surprised. "Good evening, Harry," replied Draco. Llewellyn smiled and Draco took his seat.  
  
"Glad to see that hair potion worked," commented Llewellyn.  
  
"Yeah," Harry instinctively went to mash down his cowlick but just got his fingers all sticky.  
  
"I'm so sorry I took so long," said Llewellyn to Hermione, Parvati, and Lavender, "but I was packing and I wasn't feeling so well."  
  
"Packing?" asked Lavender.  
  
"Oh, no, this is your last night here, isn't it?" replied Hermione quickly.  
  
"End of semester," explained Parvati to Lavender.  
  
Llewellyn sighed. "Yes."  
  
"Don't look so sad, we still have the vacation to look forwards to. Plus...something else," said Draco.  
  
"What?" asked Llewellyn.  
  
"I pulled some strings," answered Draco matter-of-factly to her. "See, my father's so happy I'm going out with an Euryale that he'll do pretty much anything for us, and so...." He looked around the table. "Oh, fine, I can't keep it a secret. Llewellyn is going to stay until the end of the year!"  
  
Everyone smiled, and Hermione cheered. "I did all that packing for nothing!" Llewellyn complained jokingly, but squeezed his hand. "Thanks, that really, really means a lot to me. Now both Rosalind and I are both going to be here for the second semester."  
  
"Who's Rosalind? Your best friend back home?" asked Neville. Llewellyn nodded.  
  
"Wait a minute...." Ginny had appeared ponderous since Draco had made his announcement. "What do you mean, 'my father is so happy I'm going out with an Euryale?'"  
  
Llewellyn sighed and tapped her coat of arms pendant. "The Euryale family is one of the premier wizarding families of the States - I mean, the US. Now you're having me say it! What's for dinner?"  
  
Harry and Ginny noticed right away that she had changed the subject nearly as quickly as she had began it. However, both decided to remember it for wondering later, and refocused on the night before them.  
  
Dinner was had in the same way as last year, and Harry ordered himself a plate of salmon. Hermione appeared too happy with Ron to worry about the poor but eager house elves below them, and Harry wondered where Dobby was in the world. After dinner was some dancing, which Cho and Harry did together good naturedly, both of them talking about Quidditch nearly the whole time. At about ten o'clock, the people at Harry's table all drifted outside and into the maze of rose bushes. Harry and Cho decided to go for a stroll among the little fairy lights around them. He was prepared to talk more about the dangers of cobbing when Cho changed the subject to something much more personal.  
  
She stopped him from walking further, motioned him into sitting next to her on a bench, and turned to face him. "Harry, I really appreciate you asking me to the Yule Ball. Everyone's acting like they're walking on eggshells with me and guys. Tonight's really helping me to move on from Cedric's death. I feel as if I'm closing up all the final ties that I had with him. I mean, we had a great relationship, and last year's Yule Ball was a real dream...but now I feel like my heart is finally back in one piece. So...thank you." She held his hand and gently kissed his cheek.  
  
Harry turned to face her, meaning to say something in reply, but before either of them knew what was happening, their lips touched. Harry and Cho kissed each other then, sweetly, tenderly, still hand-in-hand. He slowly pulled his hand out of hers and put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer very gently. Suddenly, she stopped, and Harry looked at her quickly, afraid he had done something wrong. He followed her eyes and looked over his shoulder.  
  
"Um...Hi Harry!" said Ron and Hermione in unison, brightly and sheepishly at the same time.  
  
"We just wanted to see how you were doing," said Ron.  
  
"We'll go now," added Hermione. They quickly shuffled onto a side path away from Harry and Cho.  
  
A that-was-weird "Hmm" was all that came out of Cho before she and Harry were kissing again. Harry had never kissed before...but he was beginning to really, really like it. 


	10. Pureblood Families

Chapter Ten  
  
  
  
Pureblood Families  
  
A quick glance at Ron, Hermione, and Llewellyn's faces the next morning revealed they had had a night as memorable as Harry's. Now, Hermione and Ron were being so disgustingly cutesy, Harry through he would throw up - if it weren't for the fact that Cho and himself were doing so well. Llewellyn was back to her glasses and dark, wavey hair, but it was apparent she and Draco were very happy.  
  
Draco. Malfoy. Harry thought about him. It still felt very strange to suddenly be his friend, and Harry knew both himself and the Slytherin weren't quite ready to suddenly ditch five years of hostility they had shared. But, as Llewellyn kept pushing the two to become friends, Harry had to admit not having to dodge the nasty comments of previous years wasn't such a bad thing. It was still just really odd.  
  
All of Llewellyn's packing wasn't entirely fruitless, as she and Draco were going to be going back to Columbia and meeting up with Rosalind. Llewellyn had described her friend to Harry as, "Bookish, memorizing the most obscure and somehow most important facts and dates of the wizarding world." Harry wondered what Hermione would think of Rosalind.  
  
As was usual now, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all staying at Hogwarts for the remainder of the holiday. Harry was delighted to know that Cho was, too. The weekend after Christmas was a Hogsmeade one, and all four had agreed to go a double date-sort of thing.  
  
The four, all bundled up in lots of extra clothes and cloaks, made their way from Zonko's Joke Shop to The Three Broomsticks in a bitingly cold snow storm. They quickly moved to a table inside, far away from the drafty doors, and Madame Rosmerta handed them four hot Butterbeers.  
  
After a while, they shucked some of their outer layers off, and talked about nearly everything from Quidditch to professors that irked them. As they talked, Harry, who had his back to the wall, kept noticing a dark shape outside the windows, becoming more and less visible as the winds changed directions. He had the feeling it was alive, but it didn't look like a person. Maybe it was a stray dog?  
  
It suddenly clicked. Could that be none other than Snuffles - Padfoot - Sirius? Harry was about to say something to the others when he remembered: Cho. She didn't know about Sirius. Harry thought for a moment. He trusted her, but this was his godfather's life at stake if she knew.  
  
"Hermione, Ron, is that Snuffles out there?" asked Harry, hoping to sound nonchalant.  
  
"Huh?" Apparently they had forgotten his codename from last year.  
  
"Padfoot?" he pressed, looking urgently at them, and hoping Cho wouldn't notice.  
  
"Oh! Oh, Snuffles! Oh, of course!" Recognition came to Hermione's face, but Ron didn't seem to get it. "Snuffles, you know, that great big stray dog we see sometimes?" Now he understood, and the three looked out the window.  
  
"Is Snuffles a nice dog?" asked Cho, putting on her cloak again.  
  
"A perfect gentleman - er, gentledog," replied Ron. His ears reddened, but he quickly put on ear muffs. The four re-donned their winter clothes and headed outside. Sure enough, there was Snuffles, or Padfoot, or Sirius Black.  
  
What brings him here right in the middle of Hogsmeade without even a letter? thought Harry concernedly. Cho patted Sirius on the head, and Harry felt kind of stupid. He thought quickly.  
  
"Hermione, Ron, why don't you go check out the latest arrivals at Honeyduke's while Cho and I go to the new Quidditch shop?" he shouted through the snow.  
  
"Sounds great! C'mon, Hermione!" answered Ron. Now he understood what his friend was hinting at.  
  
Harry took Cho's mittened hand and led her to the Haversacker Haven, checking over his shoulder only once to make sure Sirius wasn't following them. Harry thought he saw three figures walking away from himself and Cho, which comforted him a bit.  
  
"Is something wrong?" asked Cho loudly.  
  
"I'm...I'm just worried about the dog. We haven't seen him for a while, and in this weather, you don't know what could happen," he shouted back. Well, that was actually not an untruth. As if to prove his point, it began to get even windier as he and Cho staggered to the shop.  
  
He opened the door for her, and inside, the warmth was blesssed. They thawed themselves out while looking at the antique Moontrimmer and Silver Arrow broomsticks at the front of the shop. They walked hand in hand amid full sets of Quidditch robes and handle polishes and team mascot plushies that actually moved and talked, silent save for little gasps and remarks about the merchandise.  
  
When they came to the end of an aisle, Cho stopped Harry. "You do know this has nothing to do with our Quidditch games, right?" she asked expectantly.  
  
"What do you mean?" responded Harry, a little confused.  
  
"This," she said again, but pointed to their hand holding. "Us."  
  
"Oh. Yeah! Of course. No effect."  
  
"Good, because the next match is Ravenclaw verses Gryffindor and you're not going to get between me and the Snitch," she joked.  
  
"Oh really?" he replied, grinning. "We'll see about that with you and your Comet 260!"  
  
They laughed and kept walking through Haversacker Haven, but they both wondered: Would Quidditch change for both of them now?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ron, Hermione, and Sirius had a more pressing question to worry about: where to hide. Sirius now took the lead, and led them rather slowly and cautiously through the snow to the cave they had met with him in before. Buckbeak wasn't there, and neither was much else, other than a small bag and an old transport-type broomstick. Sirius transfigured, and Ron and Hermione were glad to see his hair short, his frame filled out, and a beard on his face.  
  
"How are you doing?" asked Hermione.  
  
Sirius smiled then, and Ron and Hermione saw that untroubled young man break through the years at Azkaban much more easily. "I'm actually doing very well."  
  
"Where have you been?" asked Ron. "Where's Buckbeak?"  
  
"At home," Sirius replied, and the two looked at him in amazement. "Yes, I have a home now, a small flat in New Jersey. I managed to stowaway myself and Buckbeak on a wizard transport boat across the Atlantic. I got a job as a salesclerk in an apothecary.  
  
"In the States, with a beard, a haircut, a little meat on my bones, and a different name, of course, Howard Smith, no one would ever suspect me of being that what's-his-name criminal from 3000 miles away. I'm starting a brand new life, and let me tell you, it is wonderful. I just have to make sure I don't stick out or get too close to anyone."  
  
"Well, that's wonderful, Sirius! But...what are you doing here?" asked Hermione.  
  
"If it was this easy for an innocent convinct with only his Animagi self and a hippogriff to get to the States and start a new, public life, how easy do you think it would be for an evil mastermind with a horde of loyalists to begin a new, private one?"  
  
Ron let that sink in for a second, and then said, cautiously, "You- Know-Who?"  
  
"Yes, Ron, you're unfortunately right. Voldemort is in the States, and attracting more and more American followers as we speak. This time, when he tries to take over the world, he will be basing himself in the States."  
  
"How do you know? What are the Americans doing about it?" replied Hermione, worried.  
  
"I'm just picking it up from American newspapers, piecing together disappearances, murders...the same trail of mysteries that Voldemort left when he began his first tirade. The Americans have not yet picked up on a connection between the heightened crime and the European monster who was supposedly destroyed fifteen years ago."  
  
They were all silent for a moment, and then Sirius said, "Who was that girl Harry was with, when he wisely separated from you?"  
  
"That was Cho Chang, a sixth year Ravenclaw," answered Ron.  
  
"Oh. Cho Chang...was she the girlfriend of the...the deceased?" he asked cautiously. Hermione nodded. "Good. I was afraid she would be one of the American girls."  
  
"What do you mean?" said Hermione.  
  
"I'm not suggesting anything," said Sirius, "but both of the girls who won the K. W. O. came from old pureblood families, the kind that are attracted to the power that Voldemort tempts his followers with. For a cautionary measure, just try to not get involved with them...." He drifted off when he saw their shocked faces. "What is it?" he asked, afraid of the answer.  
  
"We've already befriended one, Llewellyn Euryale," answered Ron.  
  
"An Euryale? Oh, no...," said Sirius softly. "Where is she now?"  
  
"On...on vacation...in the States...with...with...Draco Malfoy," admitted Hermione.  
  
Sirius nearly had a conniption. "An Euryale...with the son of two Death Eaters...in Voldemort's country!?" he shouted in half-anger, half-shock. Hermione and Ron solemnly nodded. "Oh, this is a bad thing. A very bad thing. Can you trust Cho?"  
  
Ron shrugged.  
  
"Well, I sure hope you can, because we need to see Harry. NOW." He transfigured into a black dog and bounded out of the cave, Hermione and Ron sliding through the snow at his heels.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
In a cabin on a ship somewhere on the Atlantic ocean, Llewellyn was having the snake dream again.  
  
She was lost in a labyrinth, dodging bloody body parts protruding from the walls and ceiling, and venemous snakes slithered everywhere along the floor. Her dream self slid along the ground on a snakelike lower half and clawed hands, the hissing of a dozen snakes forever right around her, and a foul stench always pervading the air. In her dream, after wandering through the maze for what felt like eternity, she found a broken broadsword lying on the ground. Her clawed, misshapened hands picked up a slice of the mirror-like blade and raised it to her face. Who was she? A contorted chin...fangs protruding from a dark, wet mouth...a hideous, squashed nose...uneven, bulbous cheekbones...and the eyes, the eyes....  
  
She woke up with a scream. She was breathing heavily and drenched in a cold sweat. Taking a few calming breaths, she reached for her wand and mutted "Lumos". She found the lamp and turned it on, and then, standing there in her nightgown and feeling shook to her very roots, she looked around the tiny cabin for something to take her mind off the reoccuring dream. She decided to get out a piece of chocolate and a book on Quodpot 2000 from her suitcase, but she found something else.  
  
Examining the small, brownish lump in the poor light, she suddenly remembered - the piece of parchment Tim Wyvern had thrown at her nearly four months ago. She opened it and read it:  
  
Llewellyn,  
  
My older brother hangs out with the "wrong crowd",  
  
and I've been hearing things from him about someone  
  
called The Dark Lord. Over vacation I snuck into his  
  
room and found a list of names. I don't know if they  
  
are connected to this Dark Lord, but I don't recognize  
  
any. I did some research on The Dark Lord and found  
  
out he terrorized Europe up until about 15 years ago.  
  
So maybe you could try to research some of these names  
  
while your there at Hogwarts.  
  
Llewellyn read the list names. Most drew a blank, some sounded vaguely familiar, like Nott and MacNair, but there were some that bothered her. Snape...and Crabbe...and Goyle...but most of all, Malfoy.  
  
She put her hand on the doorknob, but stopped herself. Tim, the practical joker, the crazy enchanter, had discovered an unlabeled list while snooping. It really could be anything....  
  
But curiosity got the better of her, and she walked through the darkened hall of the ship towards Draco's room. She knocked gently on the door, and after no response, knocked harder. She was just about to try again when he appeared, looking rather cranky, and dimly lit by wandlight.  
  
"What does this mean?" was all she said, and handed the whole letter to him. Blearily at first, he looked at the names in increasing disbelief and sat down right there on the floor.  
  
"It's the Death Eaters," he whispered mournfully to no one in particular. "You-Know-Who must be back, and has something to do with the States." He held up the letter and looked at her. "Is Tim going to be at Columbia?"  
  
Llewellyn nodded.  
  
"I need to talk to him," said Draco. With the letter still in hand, he shut the door and left Llewellyn alone to her confused thoughts. 


	11. Echoes of the Dark Days

Chapter Eleven  
  
  
  
Echoes of the Dark Days  
  
Harry was just about to kiss Cho behind a display of League posters when he heard two people smack the door of the shop open and run in.  
  
"Excuse me!" Harry heard the salesclerk say angrily.  
  
"I'm sorry, ma'am, we need to speak to Harry -"  
  
"There's no Harry here."  
  
"Ron! I'm here!" Harry and Cho appeared from behind the posters.  
  
"C'mon, Harry, Cho -" Ron signaled them to follow him and Hermione, and they followed, Cho being dragged rather unwillingly by Harry.  
  
They barreled out of Haversacker Haven and into the snowy street where Sirius waited. "There's no time to get to the cave, we have to get to the Shrieking Shack!" shouted Hermione, and they struggled through the increasing storm towards the desolate house they knew lay at the end of the street.  
  
"The Shrieking Shack?" yelled Cho, scared. "What's going on?"  
  
"We'll tell you later!" screamed Harry, and the wind seemed now to be trying to turn the village of Hogsmeade into a pile of snowy toothpicks. After what felt like eternity, they began up the hill that led to the Shack. Ron found the break in the fence and helped everyone get through the pileup of snow. They staggered through the last few feet between the gate and the front door. Harry joggled the locked handle for a couple frantic seconds until he remembered "Alohomora" and held open the door for everyone to hurry through the doorway.  
  
Inside the Shrieking Shack, it was only a little warmer than the outside, but the absence of wind made it feel nearly balmy. Sirius shook off the snow on his fur and then Transfigured back to his human form. Cho let out a little scream, and Harry comforted her right away. "It's okay, it's okay," he said reassuringly and put his arms around her shoulders, but Cho still seemed pretty frightened.  
  
"Why are we in the Shrieking Shack, and who is the Animagi?" she asked, boldly and timidly at the same time.  
  
"It's out of the weather, and that's...that's my godfather," said Harry cautiously, looking from Ron to Hermione to Sirius.  
  
"He's from the States," chimed Ron.  
  
"His name is Howard Smith," added Hermione.  
  
"Hi," said Sirius.  
  
This seemed to satisfy Cho. "You three know more about the others than you do yourself," she commented lightly, referring to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Mr. Smith, I've never met an Animagi before, other than Professor McGonagall, of course. Are you Snuffles?"  
  
Sirius laughed heartily, a sound that warmed Harry. "Yes, that is their nickname for me. Sometimes I have to come and see my godson, and well, I'm an unregistered Animagi, so they have to be quiet about it."  
  
There was silence for a moment, where all that could be heard was the wind howling outside. Then, Harry said, "So, why did you come?"  
  
At this, Sirius sighed. "Harry...I don't know how to make this easier to tell you...but You-Know-Who is gathering his followers and thriving in America."  
  
He wisely chose not to use the Dark Lord's real name...after all, he was Howard Smith as long as Cho was there. "That's horrible!" she said loudly. Harry did nothing but raise his eyebrows in amazement.  
  
Sirius quickly told Harry and Cho what he had told Hermione and Ron in the cave earlier. He finished with, "And now, the American girl is back in America, with the son of two Death Eaters."  
  
"I...I don't think Llewellyn would side with the Dark Lord," replied Harry, "but you're right, her family might. I know she doesn't like her family for some reason, I think because they're so traditional and stodgy, and she rarely ever sees them."  
  
"Yes, Harry, you're right...," began Sirius, "but don't forget, the Unforgivable Curses are not seen as such to You-Know-Who. She may fall victim to the Imperius Curse if it is cast by her own flesh-and-blood parents." He took out his wand, which looked rather new, and cast a fire in the old fireplace.  
  
"Wait a minute, wait a minute," interrupted Hermione. "Just because You- Know-Who is in America doesn't mean that every American pureblood family is going to go running to him, pledging eternal allegiance from every family member. I understand we, as everyone here, especially Harry, need to be cautious...but there's no need to become paranoid. And won't the smoke be seen?"  
  
"You sound paranoid yourself, Miss Granger," joked Sirius. "It's a blizzard outside. You couldn't see it if a dragon was flying two inches from your nose." He regained his composure. "Your advice is helpful - be cautious, but not paranoid. When holiday is over, and Llewellyn and the other girl come from America, just be on your guard, and don't do anything stupid, like ask if their families are involved in the Dark Arts.  
  
"I'm going to have to go back to America soon, I'm only here on a three-day Christmas break at the apothecary. I'm sorry I didn't send you a note, Harry, but, as you can tell, I'm trying to keep a low profile -" He suddenly remembered Cho, and abruptly changed the subject. "I think you should be going back to school - the snow will soon be up to Mr. Weasley's waist, and then the rest of you will be in lots of trouble."  
  
Ron laughed hollowly, hoping Cho to be a bit thick-headed, and started towards the door. He pushed on it, and to his surprise, it wouldn't budge.  
  
"Umm...Mr. Smith?"  
  
Sirius strod over to the door, tried it a few times, did a few basic unlocking charms, and then threw all his weight against it. The door moved outwards about two inches, and they saw that the snow had been piled against the door at least higher than Sirius's head. He shut the door and thought for a moment. "I bet you the snow is only two feet deep, but with this wind pushing against the house.... You're going to have to get back to Hogwarts through the Whomping Willow."  
  
"The Whomping Willow?" asked Cho incredulously. "Wait a minute, isn't this the Shrieking Shack, the most haunted dwelling in Britain? What's going on?"  
  
Harry took a little risk. "Do you remember Professor Lupin?" he asked.  
  
"Of course. He was such a great Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. But it turns out he was a werewolf, right?"  
  
"Right. Well...the Shrieking Shack isn't haunted by ghosts. It was haunted by him every full moon he was at Hogwarts many years ago. And to get here, he went through the Whomping Willow, which was placed over an underground tunnel from the Hogwarts grounds to here, the Shrieking Shack," explained Harry. Ron and Hermione kept giving him more and more warning scowls,but Harry knew he was stepping on very fragile territory.  
  
"And how do you know this?" asked Cho, crossing her arms.  
  
"I knew Remus Lupin when he went to Hogwarts," answered Sirius, saving Harry from more death glares. "Let's go before the professors have to go searching through Hogsmeade to find you."  
  
Sirius led the way, followed by Ron, then Hermione, then Harry, with Cho lagging behind. The tunnel was very dark and eerily still and quiet compared to the winds raging outside. The five of them lit up their wands and proceeded through the tunnel in silence for a long time. Finally, the tunnel started going upwards, and they heard and saw the snowstorm through a crack in the Whomping Willow. Sirius opened it for them and pressed the magic knot with a stick on the ground between the trunk and the branches. The tree stopped its slow, labored flailing immediately - it was bogged down with extra snow. Ron began to lead the three other students towards the school while Sirius stayed close to the tree.  
  
"Harry!" he called. "I'm going to be tracking the American newspapers. If anything more shows up that confirms my suspicions, I'll send you a long- distance owl. Tell that to Hedwig so she doesn't get jealous and try to cross the Atlantic herself. And Harry, remember what Hermione said - Be cautious, but not paranoid!"  
  
"Okay, Sir - you soon! Bye...Uncle Howard!"  
  
Harry bit his tongue at his stupidity as the four marched through the snow.  
  
"You have an interesting godfather," commented Cho, as they closed the front doors behind them.  
  
"You don't know the half of it," was all that he said, and then they were dividing to go to their different houses.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"I'm so glad you're back!" was the first thing Rosalind said when she saw Llewellyn walking up the familiar steps to the Columbia courtyard.  
  
"Oh, me too, Roz! It's great to see you again!" replied Llewellyn, and they hugged and laughed.  
  
Skyla Conway, Tim Wyvern, and Ino Kinst (apparently up to snuff with his studying, as he was still at Columbia) were there too, and Llewellyn greeted them all happily.  
  
"What did you enchant this week?" she asked Tim.  
  
"Oh, I made a candy cane that does the Tango - for the Christmas spirit," he replied cheerfully. He dropped his voice. "Did you find out anything about the names I gave you?"  
  
"Not much. One's the last name of a Hogwarts professor, and three are the last names of students at Hogwarts. And one of them is my boyfriend, who's here. Or...I thought so...." She looked behind her. "Draco?"  
  
There was no response. Llewellyn walked over to the staircase and looked down - no sign of him. She called his name again, and this time got a response.  
  
"That's sick. That's absolutely sick!"  
  
"What's the matter?" Llewellyn walked down the steps and saw him crouched on a rock between the walkway and the wall, looking in disgust at a smudge about three inches high and two inches wide on the wall.  
  
"Look at that." He pointed towards the blot on the wall. "What does that look like?"  
  
She examined it. Now that she looked at it, it seemed to form a distinct picture, one that you could only see out of the corner of your eye, or one that you'd have to slowly focus and re-focus until the image popped out at you. She relaxed, and let her gaze slide around the smudge. Suddenly, the picture appeared and seemed to burn into her vision. Letting out a little gasp, she shut her eyes.  
  
"What does it look like?" Draco said again.  
  
"A snake," she answered, eyes still closed. "A snake coming from the mouth of a skull."  
  
"That's the Dark Mark, the sign of the Death Eaters," he explained. She looked at the wall again and saw that he had smeared the design, but it was still burned into her mind. "If it's floating over your house, that means that your house has been ransacked and the occupants more than likely victims of an Unforgivable Curse. When it's been drawn on the wall...I don't know. I think that...maybe a Death Eater is here."  
  
"I still don't understand what you mean by Death Eater," confessed Llewellyn softly.  
  
"I think that maybe Tim, since his brother sounds like one, and Rosalind, since she's going to be at Hogwarts, and you and me should get together and have a discussion about You-Know-Who." Draco stood up and stepped off the rock. "Is there somewhere we could speak in privacy?"  
  
Llewellyn thought for a moment. "Well, there's usually an empty classroom up by the top of the tower." She began up the steps to the courtyard with Draco behind her. "Tim, Roz, can we talk?" she called.  
  
"Sure," said Rosalind, and Tim followed.  
  
"What for?" he asked.  
  
"We need to talk about that list you gave Llewellyn," answered Draco.  
  
"You're on it, right?"  
  
Draco grimaced. "My family name is, I'm not."  
  
Tim shrugged - more pureblood stuff he didn't understand. Both his parents were wizards, but both of them were Muggle-born.  
  
Llewellyn led them through the glass lobby and up the spiraling staircase to the second-highest room in the tower. On the way up, Tim and Draco were silent, but Rosalind and Llewellyn talked nearly non-stop about anything and everything: the latest gossip, the latest discoveries in astronomy (Rosalind's field), and the latest Quodpot 2000 playoffs. Llewellyn, who didn't really have a team to support before, now felt slightly connected to the New York Nogtails, and was glad to know they had a very good record so far.  
  
The classroom was dark and a little chilly, with a dozen desks arranged in rows of three by four. Tim went to light the lamp and start a fire in the grate as the others made a square of four desks and sat down. The enchanter sat down, and Draco rummaged around in his robe pocket to find the list Tim had written down.  
  
"This list," began Draco, "is a list of names of families that got involved with a maniacal European tyrant some twenty-five years ago. Nobody likes to say his name, because of all the fear that came with it...So I'm only going to say it once." He gulped.  
  
"Voldemort.  
  
"There, I said it. From now on you have to say 'You-Know-Who' or 'He-Who- Must-Not-Be-Named' or 'The Dark Lord' when talking about him, because of all the things he's done...it's just...just horrible."  
  
For a quarter of an hour Draco just talked about the dark, horrible times that Voldemort caused for all of Europe. The pale Slytherin was able to describe some of the terrible things in great detail...after all, he had heard the stories being retold from firsthand accounts.  
  
His parents.  
  
His parents had done some of those things! He felt like he would explode with the anger of being forced to appreciate the Death Eater's works of horrors. His mind floated back to when he was younger, when Shirley was only a baby...He was so proud to be a Malfoy, he hero-worshipped his father, he was like a house elf bowing down to his father's every wish. He once thought that Muggles were the dirtiest things in the world, a disgrace, and Muggle-borns little better. He once insulted and spat upon the souls of the wizards and witches who had connection to Muggles. But something had changed inside of him...teenage rebellion, or maybe his conscious had finally kicked in?  
  
The cold of the desk brought him to his senses, and he realized that he had put his head down on the stone surface, now damp with his tears of rage. Llewellyn was patting him on the back...someone else was there in the room...the Death Eater!  
  
His brain wouldn't work correctly, but his muscles were. He sprang from his seat, turning the desk upside down, and ran towards the fifth person in the room in a fit of blind fury. He was held back by a pair of large, built arms, and felt himself collapse limply in their strength, hanging like a wet noodle until his self-control returned. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, and raised his blonde head up to see who he had tried to attack.  
  
"I'm Professor Patursa," said the man to Draco. He looked to be in his mid- twenties, very heavy-boned and stocky, with sandy hair and a smile always playing about his features. Patursa looked to the Columbia students. "And I think you guys are in way over your heads." 


	12. Unanswered Questions

Chapter Twelve  
  
Unanswered Questions  
  
The old Hermione resurfaced and with great force, much to Harry and Ron's disliking. The O. W. L.s, Ordinary Wizarding Levels, the major tests that all fifth-years took, were coming up at the end of the year, and Hermione was suddenly determined not to let a silly thing like dating Ron get in the way of getting at least twelve proper O. W. L.s by the end of the year.  
  
She had scouted out a particular armchair in a corner of the common room and could be seen there for nearly the rest of the whole winter holiday, frantically reviewing notes she had been saving since the beginning of her stay at Hogwarts - Ron and Harry could see the color-coding she had once employed over all her pages. She even admitted to them at one hurried dinner that she wished she had her time-turner back to fit in more studying.  
  
Harry and Ron were a little more lax about preparing for the O. W. L.s, especially over the holiday, but they would at least comfort Hermione by reading A History of Magic over in her corner. Harry promised not to tell Hermione about the Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle he found wedged between the pages of Ron's textbooks.  
  
It was on the last day of the holiday, the day before Llewellyn and Rosalind arrived from the States, that Harry didn't bother to pretend to study goblin rebellions in front of Hermione. Instead, he looked through his photo album - given to him by Hagrid at the end of his first year.  
  
There were his parents, waving and smiling up at him in black and white. Harry looked at pictures of the wedding, of the happy couple, of himself as a baby...all the pictures so contented, nothing even hinting to the horrible deaths that awaited them.  
  
And yet, he could see it in his mind, with color and sound, too...replaying over and over again....  
  
Almost before he knew what he was doing, Harry found himself climbing up the stairs to the dormitory.  
  
He blinked.  
  
What was he going up there for? His school things, for some more studying? Yes, that sounded correct. He absentmindedly picked his bag up and re- joined Ron and Hermione back in the common room. Shuffling through his collection of supplies, he hit upon The Handbook of Modern Dark Magic.  
  
Hermione looked up for a second at the black book he had in his hand. "Oh, Harry, I have to look up some hexes, can I have it when you're done?"  
  
Harry didn't hear her. He was looking at the three-headed snake warily. Was it his imagination, or did the middle head just move?  
  
Oh, so you're back again.  
  
Harry looked up at Hermione and Ron, Hermione involved in some goblin revolution, and Ron stifling a laugh at his comic book. They didn't seem to be paying him any attention, and the common room was empty otherwise.  
  
"Yes," whispered Harry back in Parseltongue.  
  
What is it you want?  
  
"I want to see my parents."  
  
Now Harry knew that he wasn't imagining it...all three heads were smiling in a wicked sort of way. He felt the floor disappear beneath his feet and the three headed snake pry through his mind, painfully this time, to dredge up the memory of that night fourteen years previous....  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The first thing Ron and Hermione noticed was the hissing, which they first assumed was just Harry reciting some important fact to himself to memorize. When they saw his eyes roll up in the back of his head and his body crumple to the ground, however, they knew something was terribly wrong.  
  
They leapt over the piles of books in front of them and looked down helplessly at Harry, who seemed to be in the state of a strange dream. His eyes rocketed back and forth from behind his eyelids, and his mouth worked, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't figure out how to properly move his throat. Hermione and Ron looked at each other desperately and then back down at their friend, who now looked as if he was having a spasm and might be in danger of hurting himself.  
  
"Oh no, oh no, my mother was telling me about this," said Hermione anxiously and in a strangely high voice. She stepped from foot to foot and then kneeled down next to Harry. "If someone's unconscious, you have to...have to...um...support the head, I think?"  
  
Just as she was about to hold up Harry's head, he stopped shaking. He froze quicker and straighter than if he had the Full-Body Bind placed on him. Only his face showed any movement; an mixed expression of hatred and fear played on his features, and his eyes moved more slowly; as if he was watching someone move across a room in slow motion. Hermione and Ron could do nothing but watch as his eyes stopped moving, and they could almost see a flash of green light come from his face.  
  
Then, without warning, Harry's face became a mask of horrendous pain, and his terrified onlookers almost heard a sickening tear as his scar opened again and blood spurted out, mingling into the red Gryffindor carpet.  
  
Hermione was about to hyperventilate, and Ron hadn't been as scared as bad since they had gone into the valley of the gigantic spiders during their second year. To their immense relief, Harry's face and body relaxed, and he woke from his frenzy.  
  
"Oh, hi guys!" he greeted rather brightly, the unnoticed book still in hand.  
  
"Parseltongue," mumbled Ron, and saw the book. He took it from Harry's hand with a little tugging. "What do you still have this for?"  
  
Harry blinked a few times and said, rather nervously, but in English, "Well, Visilio hasn't told us to bring them back yet, right?"  
  
Hermione and Ron shared another glance, and then looked back at Harry, who was now sitting up on the floor.  
  
"What did you see?" asked Hermione solemnly.  
  
"I saw my parents."  
  
"What!?" Ron looked at him critically.  
  
"Harry, say this again," requested Hermione. "Who did you see?"  
  
"My mum. My dad. I saw them." Harry nodded, and looked down at the carpet. His voice was barely a mumble. "Just before they died."  
  
Ron gulped. He was venturing into a dark, deep part of Harry he wasn't sure he wanted to know existed.  
  
"But why?" asked Ron. "Why did you suddenly collapse in the common room and then see your mum and dad?"  
  
"The book," Harry replied, slow and somber, and pointing to the Handbook Ron held. "That book and that snake on the cover are just... just...." He trailed off, with a glazed look in his eyes. "Evil," he whispered, completing the thought.  
  
Ron looked at Harry. His scar was still bleeding, although not very freely, and his eyes were watery, like he was trying not to cry.  
  
The three of them stared at the carpet for a long time, deep in thought.  
  
"I want to see them again," said Harry, firmly and intently.  
  
Ron stared at him like he had grown another head.  
  
"Harry, look, that book is evil! You just said it yourself! Remember the Dementors last year? You faintly heard your parents and almost got your soul sucked out. Tell me, do you think seeing your parents will be safe?  
  
Harry gulped. His friend was right. Still looking down at the carpet and ignoring the trail of blood going down his temple, he said, very quietly and dead seriously, "Ron, Hermione...I don't ever want to see that book again. Throw it in the lake, or better yet, the fire. Give to to Fred and George and let them blow it into pieces. I think if that book exists, I'm going to be tempted to use it and relive that night." He looked up at Hermione and Ron.  
  
"Well...I don't think it would be a good idea to destroy a school book," answered Hermione, who obviously was mortified by even the thought of dog- earing pages in a school book.  
  
"Should we just return it to the Restricted Section?" suggested Ron.  
  
"We still need it for studying for the final exam," countered Hermione, and both Harry and Ron knew they couldn't pry a needed school book from her cold, dead fingers.  
  
"Tell you what, I'll keep it hidden in the girl's dormitory. Hopefully you'll be decent enough not to go there. And I'll give you my Defense Against the Dark Arts notes, I've copied nearly the whole book," she added, grinning.  
  
"Sounds like a plan," responded Harry, one hand on his forehead. "I think I better go to the bathroom and clean myself up."  
  
Hermione and Harry went towards the dormitories, and Ron sat himself behind the wall of books. "I'll just...keep on studying," he called after them. Chuckling, he got out Flying With The Cannons and lost himself in Quidditch.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"This is the sign that you saw drawn on the wall?" Patursa asked, pointing to a drawing of the Dark Mark. He and the four students were in his office, crowded around a book entitled European Wizardry of the Twenty-First Century on his desk. Both Llewellyn and Draco nodded. "Strange...very strange...."  
  
Patursa continued reading that particular page. "It was the insignia of the Death Eaters, as you told the others," he said, talking mostly to Draco. "I don't know what it was doing on the wall. I'd have to see how it was placed there. If it's a crude charcoal sketch, then someone's probably just playing a nasty trick on the school. If it's been placed there by a spell, then...." He took a deep breath and gazed for a moment out his window, which looked out over the Atlantic ocean. "There might be some activity or interest in the Dark Arts at Columbia, which makes me terrified."  
  
"Well, who would be responsible for finding that out?" replied Draco. "Who's the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"  
  
"I suppose...that would be myself. I teach something called Wizardry Living Skills, which involves Dark Arts defensive skills, living undetected among Muggles, and magizoology."  
  
"What are you going to do, Professor?" Tim looked down at the book warily.  
  
"I don't know." Patursa shook his head and thought for a while. At length, he said, "Llewellyn, Draco, who is the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts? Maybe I should get in touch with him or her, see if they could offer us some advice."  
  
"Matt Visilio teaches it," answered Llewellyn. Patursa jumped at the name, and then looked at Llewellyn incredulously.  
  
"Matt? Matt...Matt Visilio?" he asked excitedly. "Not that New York Nogtails nut?"  
  
"That's him," replied Llewellyn, a little cautiously.  
  
"I haven't seen him for nearly ten years! That crazy old dog!" Patursa laughed and looked estatic. "We went to a wizard school in New York City - we were best buds - we graduated together eight years ago. That was the last I saw him." He lost his focus for a moment, letting his mind slide back to fond memories of earlier years, with half a smile on his face.  
  
"What happened?" asked Llewellyn, curious.  
  
"He...he wanted to play for the Nogtails. Whatever Matt is now, it's nothing compared to the obsession he had then with Quodpot 2000. He was a fantastic Quoddie, let me tell you...but I kept persuading him to study something, keep something as a backup - after all, you can't play sports for all your life. As I was taking courses on teaching, I tried to nudge him into a similar career. We just sort of drifted apart because of our differences after that.... I'm glad, but also very surprised to hear he took my advice." He drummed absentmindedly on his desk.  
  
"I'm still concerned with that Dark Mark insignia on the wall," he contined after a while. "And all this talk about the Dark Lord in the U.S...to tell you the truth, guys, I'm frightened. I think that the smartest thing for us, as in everyone here and the wizards and witches of the world, is to set up a international search for the new Dark Arts activity, beginning with Matt and myself."  
  
"But don't we sort of already have that?" asked Rosalind. "The International Confederacy of Wizardy, I mean. I know they're involved with domestic and foreign affairs, such as international law and trade, and events such as last year's Quidditch World Cup and the Triwizard Tournament in Europe. I'd think that they would want to be the basis of a multinational search for Vol-You-Know-Who."  
  
Patursa looked at her with a huge smile. "You're right! And when you're right, you're right. Good thing we had a genius like you in here to think of that."  
  
The rest of the students looked slightly put out. "Oh, I'm just kidding, honestly, you guys!" He laughed and then looked back to her. "Actually, Rosalind, that's a very good idea, but I still think that the ultimate first step would be for us two professors to get in touch." Reaching into his desk, he brought out a wooden box that held a quantity of what looked like pale blue sand and tossed it into his fireplace. "If you'll excuse me." He faced the blue flames. "Defence Against the Dark Arts Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"  
  
Patursa stepped in and disappeared.  
  
"Oh," said Llewellyn, looking thoughtfully into the fire after he was gone. "You have to be more specific than just the school name."  
  
The four students doused the flames after they were sure the Patursa had gotten through the other side to prevent ashwinders from forming. Of course, only Llewellyn and Rosalind actually knew what an ashwinder was, the former having a bad memory of a burn from ashwinder eggs, and the latter simply reading too much for her own good.  
  
Rosalind looked into the last of the flames to die down, knowing that she, Draco, and Llewellyn would be going through them to travel to Hogwarts the next day. "You know," Rosalind said, "it's pretty strange that I'm going to a foreign school the semester I take the O. W. L.s. It's like - 'Travel to exotic locations, meet brand new people, try different cultures, and take major exams that will influence the rest of your life!'"  
  
The four laughed and left the room, but only one of them didn't have his or her mind on Europe. 


	13. The Snake Dream

Chapter Thirteen  
  
  
  
The Snake Dream  
  
"Harry! Ron! Hermione!" Llewellyn appeared at the lunch table, followed by a girl their age clutching a pile of school books and looking flushed with excitement. "Rosalind was sorted earlier today - she's in Gryffindor, too! I was just helping her settle in at the dorm. "Roz," she continued, looking towards her friend, "this is Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Ginny Weasley, Fred and George Weasley...." Llewellyn introduced Rosalind to everyone that she had befriended or spent time with over the last four months who was at the table, Rosalind looking a little annoyed at the quantity of names her friend was dumping on her. "Hi. I'm Rosalind Sidereus, nice to meet you," she said simply, and sat down to lunch, to worry about names later. After all, it's not every day that you cross the Atlantic, get Sorted, become suddenly plunged into a castle in the middle of a country you've never been to before, and have major exams to worry about in four months.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The hissing this time was nearly melodic as, yet again, she crawled on half- human hands and a snakelike body through the evil, dark labyrinth. Something about it this time seemed different, almost in a comforting way. She moved her dream hands over the floor underneath the hordes of snakes that littered the maze and found it to be hard, cold, yet yielding and magical earth, as opposed to the dead, frozen stone she remembered from dreams previous. The walls were of earth, too, and even now, she had the feeling that the labyrinth was different from the one she had stumbled through while sleeping so many nights before. And yet, things still felt the same - the low hissing and the sounds of hundreds of snakes moving around her own strange dream body, the dark, the quiet desperation and confusion. I've been through this dream so many times, she said to herself. But I still can't find what it means to me or even how this dream ends. She willed herself to stay asleep, to keep herself in the dream, to try and make sense of the nightmare that had plagued her since the beginning of the year. The broken broadsword lay before her. Tempted again, she reached out to hold its mirror-like surface to herself, and then pulled her hand back. The answers to this mystery did not lie in that sliver of metal. She willed herself through the dimly lit earthen tunnel, around a gradual bend...and then she knew she was not alone. There were hooded and cloaked figures there that towered over her in the maze, but as she had no clue as to her actual size, she could not tell if they were human or not. She wondered if she should try to retreat from the figures in the wall or run back from where she came from as she raised her head. Before she knew what was happening, a sword glared in the dim light of the tunnel from beneath a cloak. A fiery, godless pain blossomed in her eyes, causing her to scream - a hoarse, evil sound, guttural and ear-splitting at the same time. Had she not been subjected to the horrendous torture of having both her eyes cut in two, she would have realized it was the first sound she had ever made in her dreams. She curled up in a fetal position on the floor, rocking back and forth and wracked with pain, and felt the snakes crawl all around her, hissing loudly. They would be that last thing she would hear as she slowly felt herself dying. Who were those...those things who had done this to her? She was whimpering now, a low, croaky, pitiful noise...why wouldn't those figures attack her again so she could die quickly, not in this agony, trapped in an underground den of snakes? But even the snakes weren't so bad...she could almost imagine them sympathizing with her, giving her words of comfort and healing and peace.... "ATTACK THEM!" she suddenly shouted with her last reserves of strength. "ATTACK THEM AND KILL THEM AND AVENGE ME!" The walls and ceiling began to shake. The snakes were moving, like a tsunami of scales and sinew, and the last thing Llewellyn's dream self could remember feeling was the horde of snakes slithering around her dying body and seeking her revenge.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Llewellyn woke up in her real, human, lying in a Gryffindor four-poster body then. It was strange - she was having a hard time opening her eyes. She rubbed them and yawned, and felt something strange beneath her fingers - hard, and gritty, and a strange metallic smell pervaded her nose. Finally, she managed to get her left eye open, and looked down at her hands. Her breath caught in her chest. That could be none other than dried blood. Frantic, she ran to the girls' bathroom and washed both her eye sockets out with hot water. She peered into the mirror, wondering what state her eyes would be in. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was like she had never woken up with both eyes caked in blood. She took a deep breath and found she was shaking. After a few moments of staring down at the tile, she walked back to the dormitory. It was empty, but as it was later Sunday morning, Llewellyn didn't think much of it. She did notice, however, as she was changing out of her nightgown, that the four-posters all seemed like their occupants had left them in a hurry. However, she heard the usual buzz of the weekend common room coming from downstairs, and so was pretty sure that she wasn't missing something or doing something wrong. When she went down to the common room, some people gave her strange looks, but Llewellyn was looking for her friends. Seeing no one, not even Hermione in her corner, she decided to head down to breakfast in the Great Hall. Harry and Ron were there, although Hermione and Rosalind weren't. She grabbed a seat next to the two boys. "Boy, did you get lucky," greeted Ron through a mouthful of cereal. Llewellyn looked at him quizzically. "All the girls in your room came down last night with dragon pox or something," explained Harry. Llewellyn looked aghast. "What? Where are they? Are they okay?" "They've got the shivers and the shakes," answered Ron. "They're in the hospital wing. Harry and I are going to go visit them after breakfast." "I'm joining you." Llewellyn took a banana from a pile on the table, but didn't eat it.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"These girls need rest and relaxation and silence and you're not going to give it to them!" whispered Madame Pomfrey loudly through the door. "Can we go in one at a time, then?" countered Harry exasperatedly. Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips. "Dragon pox is highly contagious if never exposed to it before, that's why they all have it at once." "I had it when I was a little girl," lied Llewellyn. "That's why I didn't get it, and I'm in the girl's dorms." "Oh, all right, you can come in," resigned Pomfrey. "For five minutes. But they're all asleep and I want to keep it that way." "Thanks." Llewellyn slipped through the door, but Madame Pomfrey stopped Harry and Ron. "Where do you think you're going?" she said. "Unless you'd like to start an epidemic, I'd suggest you stay outside." She shut the door. "But what if I do want to start an epidemic?" Ron argued jokingly to no one. "Well, if they're asleep, and Madame Pomfrey's still there, Llewellyn'll be out in less than thirty seconds." They were silent for a moment, just looking at the floor. "How do you think four girls suddenly came down with dragon pox?" said Harry suddenly. "I don't think it's dragon pox," admitted Ron. "There's always a lot of nasty coughing with dragon pox - Charlie had it, and Mum put him in a quarantine hut she and Dad made in the back yard so the rest of us wouldn't catch it." "What do you think it is, then?" asked Harry, suddenly worried. Ron thought for a moment. Just then, the door opened, and Llewellyn came out of the hospital wing. "How are they?" the boys asked. Llewellyn shrugged. "Asleep," was all she said. She was afraid that if she continued, she would suddenly shout what was playing again and again in her mind: Those pox marks weren't pox marks... They were snakebites.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Llewellyn, Ron, and Harry spent most of the rest of the day in silence, studying yet again. Ron and Harry were rather worried about the girls and their mysterious condition, but in comparison to Llewellyn, they were completely indifferent. She kept grilling Ron about magical ailments - Harry, of course, had very little experience in the subject. Somehow, she managed to sneak in two additional visits to Madame Pomfrey's that day, during which one of them most of the girls were awake and supposed to be having lunch. Sadly, she reported to her friends back in the common room, they all seemed to have a reasonless feeling of despair and a loss of appetite. All three of them wondered what could have struck four out of five perfectly healthy students in one night, and Harry couldn't help but have a image flash in his head of someone casting a curse on the dormitory. But, why not Llewellyn? his brain shot back. Why not Llewellyn? Harry looked at her, her black hair obscuring her face as she scanned through a book on wizarding sicknesses, and wondered exactly what was going through her mind. He brought himself down to his senses. It was probably nothing more than a strange strain of dragon pox, or something even more uncommon, that she had encountered before. Even so, he and Ron found conversation with her clipped and restrained that day, and no one complained when she announced that she would be going to bed very early that night. Ron and Harry watched her as she went up the stairs in silence, and then immediately turned to each other. "Something's not right here," said Ron quickly, as if he had been meaning to say it all day. Harry agreed with him. But for the time being, they could only hope that Hermione, Rosalind, Lavender, and Parvati would get better, and soon.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Llewellyn threw herself onto her four-poster and sighed angrily. First the whole Dark Mark thing at Columbia, then the snake dream, then this. She ran the events of the last few weeks over and over in her mind. As if she had siphoned them off into a Pensieve, she almost thought she could see a pattern between the seemingly hopeless tangles of episodes in her life. But the connection soon faded, and her mind cleared, save for a dull, grey ache that had been lurking in her head for the whole day. She felt tired, but for some reason her body wouldn't let her get to sleep. She realized that she may be unconsciously frightened of having the snake dream again. Yawning and sitting up, she willed herself to fall asleep the moment she fell backwards and her head hit the pillow. She tried it. It didn't work. Desperate, she flung her arms out, trying to get herself comfortable. She hit something metal, which surprised her, as she thought she would possibly come in contact with Hermione's wooden wardrobe. Putting her hand down, she discovered the metal was circular in shape, and mounted to something hard, neither wood or metal. She found the edge of the thing, ascertained it to be a book, and brought it over to herself and the four-poster. She didn't need her glasses or a brighter light than the dim moon outside to realize that the metal circle under her finger was a coil of the three- headed snake on the Handbook of Modern Dark Magic. Strange. She noticed something odd about the head facing left. She put on her glasses and held up the book to the moonlight. The mouth seemed unnaturally large, a much wider space than she remembered. Then, she realized that the mouth seemed wider that usual because something dark was painting the inside of it. The light was poor, but Llewellyn thought right away of what the substance was. As she lit the lantern, her suspicions were confirmed...it was blood. Something was not right there.  
  
Although she fretted away half the night over what had happened to her friends and if she were somehow the cause, her consciousness finally decided it couldn't take all the fretting and gave up at about one in the morning. Llewellyn consequently woke up later than usual, and noted with dismay the empty dormitory. She changed again, into the school robes this time, and went down to a quick breakfast before her lessons and possibly a quick run to the hospital wing. But, she needn't have bothered. With an immense feeling of both relief and bewilderment, she saw that all four of the other girls were back on their feet and enjoying their meal. Not a single pox mark, or snake bite, or whatever, was on their skin. Llewellyn greeted them, and was glad to see that no one seemed to be very worried about the girls anymore. After all, it had to be one of those twenty-four hours bugs that came and went faster than you could say "Pepperup". In fact, Hermione and Rosalind seemed very happy that they had only lost one day of studying, and a weekend day to boot. In fact, only one person still saw the ailment as a very strange thing, and she was the only Gryffindor fifth-year girl who hadn't gotten the illness. In fact, the illness troubled her as much or even more than the snake dream, which was interesting, because she couldn't shake the feeling that the two were related. The only relief that she found in this was that she was sure she wouldn't have the snake dream the way she did two nights previous. She actually would never have the snake dream again, but pieces of the last one would suddenly appear when she was awake, and sometimes during strange and unlikely activities for sudden recall. 


	14. Relativity

Chapter Fourteen  
  
Relativity  
  
Llewellyn took Draco for a walk through the melting snow around the lake after dinner that Monday night. She told him nearly everything that had crossed her mind about Sunday's strange occurrences, and now he was offering her his advice.  
  
"We all promised Visilio and Patursa that we would tell them right away if there was anyone out of the ordinary that happened to us," he said, referring to himself, Llewellyn, Rosalind, and Tim. "You should go and tell him as soon as we get inside."  
  
She scrunched her mouth up a side in thought. "You don't think that we should just return the book?" she replied after a while.  
  
'Look, it's not the book's fault," he answered. "Just because you have a dream about something that happens to be the decoration on a cover doesn't mean that the two are related any more than both being in your memory. You only imagined that it had blood in its mouth last night."  
  
"What? So now you don't believe me?" She turned on him angrily.  
  
"I do believe you saw something. But you yourself said the dorm was dimly lit, and it was late at night, after you couldn't sleep. In all reality, what's the chance that it was actually blood?"  
  
Llewellyn looked at him and back at the lake a few times, trying to think of what to say. "Couldn't you just trust me on this?" she pleaded, more begging than she meant it to sound.  
  
Draco put his hands on her shoulders and looked down seriously at her. "Look, Llewellyn, something very strange is going on here. Even if it wasn't blood, and right now I'm not saying if it is or isn't, it's still important that you go to Visilio and tell him everything else."  
  
She signed and looked down, glad that she hadn't brought up her thought that the marks were snakebites. There were a few tense moments where she was afraid that she wouldn't have the courage to go to Visilio and tell him all that she thought was happening, and Draco thought that maybe she was going to get very mad at him. Finally, she looked up at him, and said, very strongly, "Fine. I'll tell. But you're coming with me."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Patursa was just saying "Just a teensy drop of Veritaserum, of course, but Jannis was pretty agitated that he wasn't involved directly" when there came a knock on Visilio's door.  
  
"One second, Jimmy," said Visilio, and he crossed the room. "Who's there?" he asked.  
  
"Draco," the Slytherin said.  
  
"And Llewellyn," she added.  
  
"Come in," said the professor.  
  
The two students entered the office and saw Professor Patursa's head sitting in the fireplace. Llewellyn was glad, as she didn't feel like telling her thoughts for a third time to the American professor. She grabbed a chair in the back of the office and then proceeded to tell Visilio and Patursa everything that she told Draco on the walk around the lake, and nothing more.  
  
When she was done, she looked from Visilio's boyish face, which seemed lost in thought, to Patursa's chubby head, which appeared vaguely confused and worried. Draco and Llewellyn looked at each other nervously, wondering what the adults would do. She reached out for reassurance and he squeezed her hand gently. Finally, Visilio turned to them and told them what he was thinking.  
  
"I did hear that four girls had an unusual sickness yesterday, but I didn't realize who they were. Furthermore, I didn't even begin to consider the possibility that something evil was going on. I'm going to request that you bring that book back to the Restricted Section as soon as you can, before anything else happens. Will you do that for us, Llewellyn?"  
  
She nodded, and after a quick glance shared between Patursa and Visilio, the students knew that the time had come to leave. They left the office hand-in-hand and wondered what they professors were saying.  
  
"Well, what I was going to say before those two came in, was that I found nothing from anybody on any Dark Arts activities. No one said or knew anything, and, along with Professor Szeles, we checked all the dormitories, and found absolutely zip for evidence towards Dark Arts use. Although," Patursa laughed, "we did find more Dungbombs than you can shake a stick at, which Maryann promptly did, and now they're lying at the bottom of the ocean somewhere."  
  
"And the Dark Mark?" pressed Visilio.  
  
"Yes...that." Patursa grimaced. "That was definitely placed there by a spell, at least four months ago. It remains even more an enigma now that I'm nearly certain there is no Dark Arts activity in Columbia."  
  
Visilio said nothing for a long time, finally replying, "Your neck must be getting tired, Jimmy. Same time tomorrow?"  
  
"Yup. Well, I'll talk to you later, Matt." With a slight pop! Patursa's blonde head disappeared.  
  
"See you, Jimmy," the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher murmured to the suddenly darkened fireplace. He stood there in thought for what felt like an eternity, quiet as a stone.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Llewellyn began to become more and more introverted over the following weeks, but considering everyone was beginning to freak out about the ever- closer O.W.L.'s, her growing silence was not noticed. Roz and Hermione became the study partner they both never had, prone to sitting in corners and whispering verbal quizzes at a lightening speed to each other. Ron and Harry tried to immerse themselves in their notes from the past four and a half years, but more often than not the facts they attempted to re-absorb turned to mush. Harry could practically see each word he read slam against a grey wall in his mind, crumbling onto the ground in incomprehensible pieces.  
  
The O.W.L.'s, which had previously seemed so distant as to be almost mythical, now loomed agonizingly near. Even though they were less than four months away, Quidditch was still being played and the vivacity of the team shone through the habitual drizzle. One Saturday evening, about five weeks after the whole strange pox incident, Gryffindor had just won a game against Ravenclaw.  
  
It had been a dreary day outside, the grey, swollen rain clouds reminding Harry of his futile studying efforts. He was sunk deep into an armchair for most of the night, still slightly wet from his post-match shower. During his attempts to pound lists of potion ingredients into his skull, occasionally literally, he looked up and saw a perpetually clement face on the verge of tears.  
  
Lawrence was hunched in the darkest corner, curled up into a ball, and staring without seeing at the wall. At first, Harry paid his observation no attention - he didn't feel up to talking to the Quidditch star, since he had to practically glue his face into a smile and think about Cho and other happy things to control his urge to choke Lawrence. But it was somewhere between boar bristles and boomslang skin that it dawned on Harry why Lawrence was so upset. It made no difference, since Harry had caught the Snitch and the Chasers had done a great job anyway, but Lawrence didn't miss one goal shot that day.  
  
He missed six.  
  
Feeling suddenly closer to the mortalized Lawrence, Harry put down his papers and went over to the corner. "Hey, Lawrence," he said softly. "Don't feel so bad. Even the best Keepers can't get every pass."  
  
"Thank you, Harry," he answered in a monotone that told Harry he wasn't being thanked at all.  
  
"What's wrong?" continued Harry, feeling genuinely concerned. Now that he thought about it, the darkest he had ever seen Lawrence was slightly miffed over a tricky charm he couldn't get right.  
  
"I'm just all over the place," he replied unusually, frowning.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Lawrence thought for a minute. "I can't concentrate on anything. Not just in the Quidditch game, when I was completely out of it...I'm just...well...I'm kind of...."  
  
Harry saw right away that Lawrence was avoiding the subject, instead of casting about for the correct word to say, but didn't comment on his observance.  
  
"Can I tell you something, if you promise not to tell anyone?" said Lawrence suddenly.  
  
"Um...sure," Harry replied, hoping that it would be easy not to leak.  
  
Lawrence sighed.  
  
"I'm really...er...lonely."  
  
Harry looked at him for a minute.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You know what I mean, Harry." The younger looked at the older with a disapproving glare, as if Harry was trying to taunt him.  
  
"You're...alone?" Now Harry was the one casting around for words.  
  
"I-I-I don't have a girlfriend!" he stammered, raising his hands.  
  
"Is that it?" asked Harry, feeling relieved that it wasn't anything more serious. "What does that have to do with anything?"  
  
"Never mind. I knew you wouldn't understand," he replied darkly, standing up and moving out of the corner.  
  
"Wait a minute. Get back here. What's going on?"  
  
Lawrence shook his head and looked around the common room furtively, as if someone was listening in on them. "It just seems like everyone's going out with everyone else. My best guy friends are with my best girl friends. It's like, everywhere I go, everyone seems so damn happy and perfect together, and I'm just there for decoration or whatever. Tomorrow's Valentine's Day, and I think I'm going to go crazy with all the relationships that are going on! I try not to think about it; I try to think of Quidditch as some kind of substitute, but when I was thinking about that during the game, I kept screwing up. And now, it's like, what do I have left?"  
  
Harry sighed, reminding himself to spend extra time with Cho tomorrow to make up for their competition during the Quidditch game. "Not everybody's together, and not everybody's happy, even if they are. Don't think about stuff like that all the time, even if tomorrow is Valentine's. Just think about...." He thought about things to think about, and the only things that came up were potion ingredients and broomsticks, which were definitely not good replacements for relationships. "Don't think about anything," he concluded, rather stupidly. "I mean," he corrected himself, "someone will be perfect for you. You just have to give them some time to find out about yourself. In the meantime, you aren't going to be stealing any girl's hearts by sulking in a corner, will you?" Harry grinned, and Lawrence broke through his mask and mimicked him.  
  
The good thing was, Harry was pretty sure Lawrence meant it, and was going to take his advice. And another good thing was, Lawrence was suddenly a pretty cool guy to talk to.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Ron!" whispered George, early that Sunday morning.  
  
"Mmwpf?" replied Ron groggily.  
  
"Do you want to buy a rose?" asked Fred, clutching a bouquet of luminous red flowers. Ron looked at him in confusion.  
  
"For Hermione, you doof! Did you get her anything for Valentine's?"  
  
Ron sat up straight, replying with a loud, "Oh no!"  
  
"Shh!" hissed the twins. "We're trying to give you a family discount on our invention. If you wake everybody up, it wouldn't be fair, now, would it?"  
  
Ron saw now that it was very early, at five or six in the morning, and the other boys in the dormitory. He looked suspiciously at the roses.  
  
"This won't turn her hair green or explode into a rubber chicken or something, will it?" he whispered.  
  
"We promise," said George, and Ron knew that he meant it.  
  
"How much?"  
  
"Free." Fred grinned, plucked a long-stem rose from the bunch, and handed it to Ron. "We're just looking out for the welfare of our favorite little brother. People like Hermione are pretty rare and we want to keep you two together."  
  
"Yeah, people that actually want to date Ron are few and far between," joked George. More seriously, he added, "If anybody asks, though, we're charging a sickle."  
  
"We have to get back to the dorm now," said Fred. "See you at breakfast."  
  
"Happy Valentine's Day!" added George, and then they were gone.  
  
Ron smiled and put Hermione's rose on his dresser, hoping she would like it. He also hoped that it wouldn't turn her into an octopus or something, but that was an ingrown instinct learned from previous experiences with the twins' inventions.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The invention of the glowing rose, however, was practically as big a hit as the Canary Creams from the previous year. Harry, Ron, and Neville were the only ones in their dorm who were able to get one before they were sold out - more to Lavender and Parvati's dismay than Seamus or Dean's.  
  
Since it was a Sunday, the professors were letting the students have a sort of impromtu Valentine's Day get-together in the Great Hall.  
  
"Great Snitch catch yesterday, Harry," said Cho offhandedly.  
  
"I'm sorry," he replied, feeling guilty.  
  
Cho twirled the rose in her hand. "Don't be. It's fun to be competing with you. I feel like we're two birds flying together in the sky."  
  
"But, I practically shoved you out of the way!" he confessed.  
  
"Oh, come one. Stop worrying about it. We knew this would happen."  
  
"All right," Harry resigned, "But only if you're sure you're fine with always losing to Hogwarts's numero uno Seeker!" He laughed, and was very glad to see Cho was laughing too, without a hint of resentment. He cast his attention around him and basked in Cho's and the rose's glow.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Ron," Hermione was saying. "You know what the O. W. L.'s mean to me."  
  
"I do, and I understand," he replied. "We have the rest of our lives to be together if we want to be. A few weeks when I don't see your face because it's behind a book all the time doesn't mean a thing to me."  
  
"What are we going to do over the summer?" she asked.  
  
"I thought you would be at your Bulgarian lover's house again," teased Ron, and Hermione blushed.  
  
"Oh, come on. You know that week at his place was about the most boring I ever spent. I was actually making up homework assignments to do just to avoid seeing his broody face. He gets annoying pretty easily if you aren't that big into Quidditch."  
  
Viktor Krum, Hermione's love interest of last year, was a constant tease of Ron's, almost to the point of being cute.  
  
Harry put his arm around Cho and looked around the Great Hall to see if anyone new was going out. He spied Lawrence in a corner, with a rose in his hand and a dejected look on his face. Harry felt bad, but not bad enough to move from his place with Cho. He looked at the people around him, and saw Hermione and Ron, Neville and Ginny, Llewellyn and Draco, and...Rosalind, sitting alone, immersed in her studying of a book entitled "Theory of Charms".  
  
Wasn't Rosalind "Rose" in another language?  
  
He got an idea worth getting up for, and excused himself from Cho.  
  
"Hey, Lawrence, there's someone I think would really like that rose of yours...." 


	15. The OWL's and the Ashes

Chapter Fifteen  
  
The O.W.L.'s and the Ashes  
  
The next few months passed relatively without incidence. Lawrence and Rosalind became regulars in Harry's ever-growing circle of couples, and they would all go down to the village together on Hogsmeade weekends. However, those were becoming less and less frequent, as the inevitable and inescapable grew on everyone's mind until you could practically see "O.W.L.'s" written on all of the fifth-year's foreheads.  
  
The testing involved questioning the students on their classes since their first year in a written exam, and a few personal tests in Transfiguration and Charms. They were administered in the first week of June, and the fifth- years were exempt from their end-of-year exams, leaving them with nearly a month of freedom before school let out. Some teachers were intent on starting the next year's curriculum, a couple of the older students had informed Harry and his friends, but quite a few became lax, and if you think you did well on the test, that June could be one of your fondest memories of Hogwarts.  
  
Harry began to get seriously concerned about his grades and performance in the O.W.L.'s. If he didn't do a good job, he wouldn't be able to get a well- paying job as he would want, and he knew that the second he turned legal adult age in the Muggle world he would be kicked out of Privet Drive for eternity. He figured he would get a job in the wizard world and save up for an apartment while living with the Weasleys. He felt a little guilty about depending on their generosity, but he also knew the only thing lying between being the Dursley's responsibility and being another Weasley child was a couple of papers and a few signatures.  
  
Hermione was taking the impending O.W.L.'s rather well, conpared to what Harry thought she would be like at this time in the year. Ron actually caught her reading a book entitled "The O.W.L.'s Aren't Everything" by Dan Nitchecronk. "It's stress relief!" she had claimed.  
  
"It's you being bored because you're memorized everything," Ron had replied.  
  
But the book didn't seem to help when the fateful week finally arrived. Hermione was just as gaunt as the other fifth-years on the first day's morning. Ron pushed around oatmel in a bowl while Harry chased a piece of bacon with a fork on his plate. Hedwig broke his morose trance with a short message from Sirius.  
  
Everything comes down to these days, huh? I know you do well under stress, but good luck anyway.  
  
- Howard "Snuffles" Smith  
  
Harry made a mental note to send Sirius his results first thing after he received them at the end of June. Just when he got in the mood to actually eat breakfast, McGonagall made an announcement at the end of the table.  
  
"Fifth-year Gryffindors are to proceed to the Defence Against the Dark Arts room for the first written portion of the O.W.L.'s. The tests are set up mostly the same, and the rules are the same, as your standard finals. I wish you all good luck, and may I remind you that the O.W.L.'s are not to be taken lightly."  
  
"There goes my last shred of confidence," said Ron sadly.  
  
"Let's just get this over with!" groaned Harry, and he got up from the table.  
  
"I think I'm going to be sick," Neville admitted.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The O.W.L.'s on Monday were hard, Tuesday's were worse, and things just went downhill on Wednesday. Thursday and Friday were mostly spent waiting in a silent hallway with the rest of the students. When it was time, there were ten tense minutes when a random Charm had to administered in front of Flitwick (or, as some students discovered, to him) on Thursday. On the last day, there was another fifteen minutes of pure agony when something had to turn into something else under the watchful eye of McGonagall.  
  
But, just as the O.W.L.'s arrival was unpreventable, its departure was also inevitable. Like an unstoppable oceanic tsunami, the test's power was predetermined, forewarned, prepared for, weathered, and now the students could pick up the wreckage and get on with their lives.  
  
"I feel like a jellyfish," commented Ron, who indeed looked boneless, as he was flopped into an armchair in the Common Room that Friday night.  
  
"My brain hurts," whined Harry. "I'm not functioning correctly."  
  
"I'm never going to get out of this chair."  
  
"What are we going to do tonight?"  
  
"Absolutely nothing!" Ron smiled and closed his eyes.  
  
At first, the idea of doing nothing appealed to Harry, but he soon found himself prodding at the ashes in the fireplace with a poker. The fire hadn't been lit for a few weeks, due to a heat wave that had rolled in after the latest Gryffindor Quidditch game, versus Hufflepuff (240 to 20, and Lawrence was okay with both lost goals). Harry's absent-minded playing in the ash soon brought him to attention, as he realized he was unearthing pages crumbling, scorched parchment. Taking a closer look, he saw that they were half ashes, and the rest practically carbonized, but he could still see and understand a small amount of the writing.  
  
He carefully lifted the most intact parchments out of the fireplace, hoping that no one was looking at him, and went right underneath a lamp to try and read the text. He could only pick out a few words here and there, but some of them were rather interesting words:  
  
REBIRTH  
  
UNDER GROUND  
  
BLOODY  
  
DAMNED BOOK  
  
OHIO  
  
And, perhaps, the most interesting one of all:  
  
IS IT ME OR MY HERITAGE?  
  
That was when Harry remembered where he had seen those quick, erratic capitals before.  
  
The parchments were in Llewellyn's handwriting.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Llewellyn? Harry wants to see you," Hermione called into the dorm.  
  
"Give me a minute." She was lying face down on the bed and slowly rose up to a sitting position, but Hermione wasn't waiting. Llewellyn sighed and slung her aching body down the stairs into the Common Room. If she knew what was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, she wouldn't have bothered.  
  
"Where did you get those?" she whispered angrily when she saw what was in his hand. She tried to snatch it out of his grip, but he held them back quickly.  
  
"Tell me what they are," he replied, just as angrily.  
  
"They're mine - they're personal, dammit! What did you do, sift through the ashes? Give them to me!!"  
  
"Llewellyn!" he snapped, eyes flashing in anger. He suddenly remembered that they were in the Common Room and softened his voice. "Come into the hall with me. Now."  
  
She grudgingly followed him, infuriated. When the Fat Lady was out of sight and no one was around, he turned on her.  
  
"What are these? Tell me the truth."  
  
She glared at him, and said, very icily, "A story I was trying to write. Am I allowed to be an author?"  
  
"Yeah, right. Why would you burn it if it was just a story, huh?"  
  
"Harry," she said, suddenly very gentle, "just give the papers to me."  
  
A light suddenly went on his head as he put two and two together. "This isn't fiction. This is your diary or something. And when things started getting weird, you burned it. Am I right?"  
  
Llewellyn said nothing. There was an extremely pregnant silence. Finally, she mumbled something.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said, I was just trying to draw conclusions."  
  
"Conclusions from what? What's going on?"  
  
"Things you wouldn't understand."  
  
Harry began fuming.  
  
"We promised Visilio we would tell him everything. Everything! What's going on that we don't know about?"  
  
She closed her eyes. "I...I can't tell you."  
  
"Well, that's just great, huh? Can you tell Visilio?"  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"You're going to."  
  
Llewellyn sighed shakily. "Can I have my papers back now?"  
  
Harry thought for a moment. "We're going to Visilio's first. And we're going - now." 


	16. The Ties Begin to Bind

Chapter Sixteen  
  
The Ties Begin to Bind  
  
"This is too big for us now. Bring in everyone that knows what's going on - Hermione, Ron, Rosalind, you know." Visilio sighed as Harry ran out of the room, then opened his desk, brought out a wooden box, went to the fireplace, and tossed in Long-Distance Floo Powder. "Jimmy Patursa, Columbia Academy! This is an emergency!"  
  
A few seconds later, Patursa appeared in the fire, his sandy hair askew and a half-eaten sandwich in his hand. "What's wrong?"  
  
Visilio pointed at Llewellyn, who was sitting at a desk. Her face was drawn and grim, and she would not look up. "Llewellyn has been withholding information from us. She has been having dreams that indicate a very specific location. Harry found these papers in the fireplace." Visilio handed the fragile sheets to Patursa gingerly.  
  
"What are these words referring to?" he asked, scanning over the legible sections.  
  
"You're going to have to ask her," replied Visilio, pointing at the haggard form at the desk.  
  
Just then, Harry returned with the three other Gryffindors, all of them a little out of breath.  
  
"Llewellyn, I'm going to ask you each word I can read, and I want you to answer me truthfully and entirely. All right?" Patursa requested very tenderly.  
  
"Okay," she whispered. Harry and the others took a seat.  
  
"'Rebirth'?"  
  
"The rebirth of You-Know-Who. His reanimation. His return to power."  
  
"'Under ground'."  
  
"Where the dreams took place. In an underground tunnel or passageway."  
  
"'Bloody'."  
  
"My eyes after the last time I had the dream."  
  
"Are you okay?" interrupted Visilio. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"  
  
"I wasn't hurt. I was just bloody."  
  
"Give me a second, Matt. 'Damned book'?"  
  
"'The Handbook of Modern Dark Magic.' A book we used in Visilio's class for research. I think it has something to do with everything that's happened."  
  
"Where is it now?" asked Harry.  
  
"I don't know. When I decided to bring it back to the library, I couldn't find it anywhere. It must still be in the dorm"  
  
"I haven't seen it," said Hermione, and Rosalind agreed.  
  
Patursa persisted. "Llewellyn, what's 'Ohio'?"  
  
She sighed. "The Great Serpent Mound."  
  
Visilio and Patursa looked at each other and then back at the students. "What's that?"  
  
"It's a monument made by very early American wizards and witches," answered Hermione. "Located in the Ohio River Valley, it's a mysterious earth work constructed in the 1st century Before the Common Era. It's so old that the Muggles and even the wizarding world have forgotten what it was originally built for. It is in the shape of a coiled and bent snake shaped around an egg."  
  
"How do you know this, Hermione?" asked Patursa.  
  
"Do you know how many hours I spent just memorizing everything in 'A History of Magic' for the O.W.L.'s?"  
  
"Don't ask her," said Ron. "She actually calculated the time."  
  
"Eggs symbolize rebirth," added Rosalind.  
  
Harry was looking at the fireplace, with half of his mind on the conversation, and the other half deep in thought. Then, it seemed like another light had went on in his mind.  
  
"Does anyone else realize what this means?" he said suddenly.  
  
The professors looked at each other and the students were perplexed.  
  
"Llewellyn dreams of an underground tunnel," he explained. "Such as one located in this Great Serpent Mound, right? The mound is in America, and nobody knows its purpose, so nobody knows what's inside it. It's a symbol of renewal, with the egg, right? What's with the snake, then? It can only mean one thing."  
  
"You're not telling me that -" Hermione said quickly after a moment passed.  
  
"Yes, I am." He paused for effect.  
  
"We know where Voldemort is."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Ashwinders!" shrieked Llewellyn. Everyone looked towards the fireplace to see three grey snakes with glowing red eyes crawling out of the still- burning blue fire. They were searching for a place to lay their eggs, which were so hot they could set a whole house on fire. Hogwarts was built of stone, of course, still, Visilio would not want his office reduced to cinders. He took out his wand, but Harry stopped him.  
  
"Let me do it," said Harry. He told the snakes to go back into the fire in Parseltongue, and they quickly turned around and returned to the flames. Visilio then extinguished the fire.  
  
"I forgot you were a Parselmouth," said the professor. He thought for a second. "Do you sometimes wish you weren't?"  
  
"Not really," Harry admitted. "But, it can get kind of scary sometimes, especially when the 'Handbook' snake talks to me."  
  
The professors looked at him in shock. "What?" cried Patursa.  
  
Harry realized they didn't know about the book's powers.  
  
"I...have some of my own explaining to do," he said, and he took a seat.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The students didn't get back to the Common Room until much, much later that night. Visilio signed a pass for them, in case McGonagall was feeling vindictive, claiming that they stayed for a whole lot of extra help in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but they met no one in the halls.  
  
As a result of that meeting, several very important things were discussed. It was decided that the Great Serpent Mound of the Ohio River Valley was related in some way to the Dark Lord, and was very likely his headquarters in America. It was also decided that the professors would go to the International Wizard Confederacy at the end of the school year after they did some more research on the possibility of Voldemort being in America. Finally, it was decided that the students involved should not do anything more in the hunt for Voldemort, save for the girls to search through their dorm to find that 'Handbook of Modern Dark Magic'.  
  
As it seemed at first, the students now had a huge load off their backs. However, each was determined in their own personal ways not to let the Dark Lord escape from America, and they all defeated him with a different method in their minds. Llewellyn was still as withdrawn as she was before the O.W.L.'s, but she didn't look like she was about to drop dead, like before Harry had discovered the papers in the fireplace.  
  
What the elder students had told Harry came true, and even though they felt like they had the weight of the world on their shoulders, June was a lot of fun for Harry's crowd. Harry, Cho, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Rosalind, Lawrence, Draco, and Llewellyn would all hang out together in Hogsmeade every weekend. The others, on what was discovered that fateful Friday night, informed Cho, Neville, Ginny, and Draco, being more or less sketchy on the details.  
  
Someone else who was informed about the revelations was Sirius. Harry wrote a very confusing letter to him, practically in code, to send by Hedwig. He hoped that Sirius would read between the lines (in fact, Harry considered writing there in invisible ink, but decided it was too risky) and get the gist of what was going on.  
  
One thing that all the students looked forward to, whether they were fifth-years who had taken the O.W.L.'s, seventh-years who had taken the N.E.W.T.'s, or any other year who looked forward to end-of-the-year exams, was the final dance. Taking place on the Saturday after finals, the weekend before they left, it would be the last night out for many couples who lived far away from each other.  
  
That Thursday, when most of the students were broiling their brains out over their fourth day of exams, the Gryffindor fifth-years were located in the Common Room. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Llewellyn, and Rosalind were talking quietly about the whole sticky situation they had gotten involved in.  
  
"Patursa has had his ear to the ground, so to speak," Hermione was saying, "He told Visilio that there have been a numerous amount of people who have gone missing in the Ohio River Valley in the past few months, but of course, people disappear all the time."  
  
"Were they Muggles or wizards?" asked Harry.  
  
"I don't know," she replied.  
  
"It shouldn't matter," said Neville suddenly, uncharacteristically firm. He was usually quiet and unpretentious whenever the group discussed the subject.  
  
"Well, I know that -" began Harry exasperatedly.  
  
"What are the professors doing about the missing people?" Neville countered, still unyielding. "Have they done anything to stop You-Know-Who? Have they informed anyone other than us on what we've been figuring out?"  
  
"I...I don't think so," ventured Hermione. "I think they have to wait before they start pointing fingers and trying to put two and two together to make a hundred. This is, after all, a pretty wild thing to suggest -"  
  
"Yeah, and they said that when Harry and Dumbledore told us all that You-Know-Who was back, and we know he is, right?" Neville had a fierce gleam in his eyes, which looked out of place in his usually fretful, round face. "So, what do you guys want to do, huh? Sit back and watch the evidence and innocent victims pile up until the so-called authorities finally figure out what's going on? So we can say, 'Oh, yeah, we knew that was going to happen'?"  
  
He swallowed a lump in his throat and continued. "Can any of you look me straight in the eye and say that you're just going to let You-Know-Who take over again? Tell me, all of you, that you won't be affected if he comes back to power. Which one of you is going to be the one that says he or she will take a backseat to the killings and the tyranny, just so you can't get in trouble for being wrong?" He lowered his voice to a nearly soundless whisper, but they caught his every word.  
  
"Who would you rather be, the one who slightly dulls their reputation because they followed a false, yet plausible, lead, or the one who completely ruins it by not acting when the time to act arrives? This, my friends, is the time to act." 


	17. Into the Serpent

Chapter Seventeen  
  
Into the Serpent  
  
"All clear." Ginny waved on Hermione, Llewellyn, and Rosalind down the hall. The four crept through the corridors without a sound, all the way to Visilio's office on the first floor. Ginny stopped them just before his door and turned to Hermione, who clutched Harry's cloak in her hand. "You ready?" whispered Ginny.  
  
Hermione nodded, and disappeared under the cloak. Ginny hung back in the hall as Llewellyn crept ahead and put her ear to the door. The faint sounds of cheering and a deep-voiced announcer could be hear, and she gave a thumb up to Ginny, Rosalind, and Hermione, wherever she was. Taking a deep breath and standing up straight, Llewellyn knocked the door.  
  
"Who is it?" came Visilio's voice.  
  
"It's Llewellyn and Rosalind. Are you watching the Jarveys-Nogtails game?"  
  
"We're winning!" he replied cheerfully. There was an expectant pause.  
  
"Can we, um...watch?" called Rosalind.  
  
They heard footsteps from inside, and Ginny scurried away to behind a statue a few feet from the offive. Visilio opened the door and held a tiny red radio blaring the sounds of a Finnafunga game in his hand. "There's not much to see, mind you, but if you want to come in and listen, be my guests."  
  
Llewellyn walked in, cursing under her breath that he wasn't watching the game on a television and so could be easily distracted. Rosalind, however, was thinking fast, and waited a few seconds for Hermione to slip inside undetected. She used that time to pantomime to the crouching Ginny the suggestion, "Knock". Taking another second to make sure Hermione was inside, Rosalind stepped in and closed the door.  
  
Visilio was standing next to the window, adjusting the antenna to pick up the signal better. Unfortunately, he stood right next to his desk, where the drawer containing the Long-Distance Floo Powder was.  
  
"You might get a better reception over there," suggested Llewellyn feebly, pointing to the corner by the door.  
  
"No, no, no. You have to be by the window to get anything when you're in an enchanted castle, even if it's magical broadcasting." He fiddled with a purple knob in time to hear that the Jarveys had just gotten twenty points, and he frowned. Llewellyn and Rosalind glanced at each other fearfully.  
  
Suddenly, there came another knock at the door. "Now, who could that be?" Visilio wondered out loud. He put the radio on the table and crossed his office. Quickly, Llewellyn pointed at the correct drawer, and it opened. A disembodied hand lifted up a small black box, and then both disappeared. Rosalind shut the door slowly as Visilio looked out into the hall for the mysterious knocker, who was probably now crouching behind the statue again. Rosalind and Llewellyn looked at each other again and nodded.  
  
"That was strange. I wonder if that was that Peeves -"  
  
"Umm, we suddenly realized we have to go," fibbed Llewellyn badly. She bolted to the door, opened it, and said, with the door ajar, "Thanks for letting us come, though. Tell us how it turns out!"  
  
Visilio looked a little confused, but not suspicious, as they jumped out of the room and closed the door behind them.  
  
"Hermione!" whispered Rosalind.  
  
She appeared, with the cloak in one hand, and the box of Floo Powder in the other. He face was flushed and she was grinning in triumph. "Great work, everybody!" cheered Ginny as she popped out behind the statue again.  
  
The shining moment didn't last, however.  
  
"We just scored a thirty-two!" shouted Visilio happily, bursting out of his office into the hall. Hermione thrust the cloak and box behind her back, and the four girls all tried to look innocent and casual. Visilio looked at them strangely. "Are you gals all right?" he asked slowly and carefully.  
  
"Yeah...." they said, just as slow and careful.  
  
"The...um...exams...shook us up," added Ginny, and the four deliberately and tediously backed up. When Visilio's office was out of sight, they turned and started running.  
  
"But, only one of them even had exams...." said Visilio softly. He shook his head and returned to the game.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Your idea better be right," warned Hermione, and she handed the cloak and the box to him. "Did you guys find a room?"  
  
"On the fourth floor," replied Ron.  
  
The now close-knit group, made up of Harry, Cho, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Llewellyn, Draco, Lawrence, and Rosalind, were all in a dusty, unused classroom close to the portrait of the Fat Lady. They were regrouping there after completing their assignments the Saturday afternoon before the dance.  
  
After Neville's moving speech, and subsequent reports of it to the four not present at the time, they had unanimously agreed to take manners into their own hands. They wanted to go to the Great Serpent Mound, collect as much evidence as they could to prove it as Voldemort's headquarters, and come back before anyone noticed that they were gone.  
  
The two problems that had remained before them were when and how to carry out such a plan. They had come to the agreement that they would do so as soon as possible, and they realized that the best time would be when everyone was occupied, expecially the professors, at the dance.  
  
The how, on the other hand, had given them a fat lot of trouble. They bounced ideas off each other, ranging from super-fast broomsticks to all learning how to Apparate in 24 hours, each one sillier than the last. Finally, Harry seemed to have been hit with a genius thought. The only problems were that it involved stealing from Visilio, finding an unused and hidden classroom with a fireplace, and that he wouldn't tell the others his idea. Obviously, it involved traveling by Floo, but apparently, no one but Harry knew how to get there that way.  
  
So, the group was now going in three different ways to the correct room, so as to not attract attention to themselves. By the time the last four students found it, Harry, who was there first, had already lit a fire in the grate. He then called everyone around the orange and yellow flames.  
  
"Remember how, a few weeks ago, we had that talk with Visilio and Patursa, and Patursa came through the flames from America?" The others nodded. "You'll remember that we accidently left the magical flames burning. And, as some of you probably know, if you leave a magic fire burning, ashwinders, grey snakes that are very hot, and so, very dangerous, will form. Everybody with me so far?" They nodded again. Most of them were there that day they had come out of the fire.  
  
"Now, so far, nothing seems amiss. But then think of how long the fire was burning. It couldn't have been more than twenty minutes. Ashwinders take hours to form. So, why did they come out after so short a fire?"  
  
There was silence, except for the regular, crackling fire in the grate.  
  
"Does anyone remember what was said, right before the ashwinders appeared?"  
  
More silence. Harry opened the box, took out a tiny pinch, and tossed it in the fire. The flames turned blue. He took a deep breath.  
  
"Voldemort."  
  
To everyone's surprise - except, of course, Harry's - three small, pallid snakes with glowing, scarlet eyes crept out of the fireplace. In Parseltongue, he quickly told them to return to the flames, and before dousing the blue fire with a simple charm, he pointed to it, looked at everyone solemnly, and said, "That's where the Dark Lord is."  
  
The room was dark, but everyone had the same look on their faces: grim determination and anticipation, mixed with a trace of mortal fear.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Hermione kept glancing at her watch nervously as the dance night went on. Ron patted her arm consolingly. "It'll be time soon enough," he said. "Just enjoy the evening. People will think you don't want to be here with me or something." He grinned stupidly.  
  
"Oh, Ron!" she replied, sighing. "You know I wouldn't want to be anywhere but with you. I'm just...."  
  
"...Scared?" ventured Ron. Hermione nodded. "I am too. We have to be strong together." He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and buried his face in her hair. They stood that way for nearly half an hour, each with their mind on the impending mission, and never wanting to let each other go.  
  
Finally, Neville and Ginny crept over to them and broke the spell. "It's 8:15," she whispered, holding hands with her boyfriend. The group had decided to divide up the times each couple left the Great Hall by fifteen minutes. Now, only those four remained, and it was Hermione and Ron's time to go.  
  
"Thanks. See you in a little bit," replied Ron softly. He and Hermione looked around the darkened Great Hall, noted that most of the professors were milling around the food table, and then quickly slipped out the doors. Ron then led Hermione through stairs and behind tapestries to the fourth floor room, neither of them wanting to tell the other that their hand was clammy.  
  
Inside the room, it was dark, and Ron could barely make out the other six figures. Actually, he saw only three shapes in the faint light coming from the corridor, because the couples were all holding each other for support.  
  
"That you, Ron?" came Harry's voice. Ron replied in the affirmative, and he and Hermione sat down at one of the dusty desks.  
  
"Where are the professors?" asked Cho.  
  
"We saw most of them at the Great Hall," replied Ron. "Harry, didn't you bring that map?"  
  
Harry nodded, brought it out of a shirt pocket, made the map appear, and squinted at it in the dim light coming from the doorway. "Everyone's in the Great Hall or somewhere else far away. We can light the fire now."  
  
Hermione, who was good at fires, lit one in the fireplace. At first, it was a vivid purple, but soon the magically started fire faded to a normal orange shade. Rosalind brought out the stolen box of Floo from her pocket, opened it, and examined it critically by the fireplace.  
  
"Be careful with that," warned Lawrence, putting his hand beneath the box as a safety net.  
  
"It's more precious than unicorn blood to us now," she said darkly, and replaced the top. "I have some bad news."  
  
"What?" asked Neville. He and Ginny had just entered the classroom, and he closed the door behind her.  
  
"There's only enough Long-Distance Floo Powder here to deliver and bring back eight people, and even then, it's going to be tight." She showed them the box, which was only a sixth full of the extra-strength powder as it could have been. The students looked at each other with uncertainty, and then each seemed to come up with a hundred reasons why they should or shouldn't go. Harry closed his ears to the din, and when it seemed to have settled down, he spoke.  
  
"Each and every one of us has their reasons to go to the Great Serpent Mound, and each and every one of us has their reasons not to go. We're going to have to draw straws or something, but I think we should all pair off as couples. All ten of us have been together with our respective partners for long enough for us to realize what a gift they are." He hugged Cho around her middle and continued. "We should determine who remains behind in terms of couples, because if anything happens in America, both boyfriend and girlfriend should be there to experience and deal with it. Do you agree?"  
  
The others nodded solemnly, and Neville pulled out his belt from his pants. Hermione used a neat Severing charm to divide it into five parts that all looked identical from the top. "The couple who draws the buckle remains behind," she explained, although everyone could already interpret that.  
  
Sitting in back of a desk, she mixed up the belt sections and arranged them so the visible pieces were identical. With a grim air, Cho, Lawrence, Draco, and Ginny all picked up one section and hid it quickly. Hermione took the remaining piece and looked down quickly - it was the end opposite the buckle. She and Ron were going, and she let just one tear slide down her face, glinting in the firelight, before wiping it away and finding out who would stay at Hogwarts.  
  
Harry, Llewellyn, and Neville all held up plain sections of the belt, leaving Rosalind and Lawrence to sigh shakily over their buckled piece. Already, it felt as if they were separate from the eight who were to continue on.  
  
"Good luck," said Lawrence softly.  
  
"We'll...we'll tell the professors," stammered Rosalind.  
  
"Everybody better come back," Lawrence added as a warning.  
  
"We'll try," replied Neville, squeaking just a little.  
  
Hermione shook the box, divided it in half with her finger, and managed to get nearly all of that section of powder into the fire, which was now blue.  
  
"Say it, Harry," whispered Cho.  
  
He swallowed a lump in his throat and gathered his courage. "Voldemort."  
  
The snakes crawled out yet again, but Harry commanded them back.  
  
"Don't think about it. Just go," suggested Ron.  
  
Harry took Cho's hand, and they stepped into the flames. 


	18. Treachery to the Dark Lord

Chapter Eighteen  
  
Treachery to the Dark Lord  
  
Llewellyn and Draco held hands, and now it was their time to pass through the fire. She turned to Rosalind and Lawrence.  
  
"Roz, if I don't come back -"  
  
"Don't say that."  
  
"If I don't come back, just tell them I did it." She stepped into the flames.  
  
"Did what?" called Rosalind frantically, but Llewellyn and her boyfriend were gone. The flames soon faded back to yellow-orange, proving Rosalind had accurate calculations of Floo amount and usage. Lawrence let the fire burn, both he and Rosalind hoping that the flames would soon be green, and their friends would be returning. When a tediously long period had passed, and the fire started to decrease in intensity, they both sighed.  
  
"What do we do now? Find the professors?" asked Lawrence.  
  
"No. We wait."  
  
They remained there in the room, the fire burning low with a dire orange shade.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The eight emerged from a small hearth in a low, earth tunnel, which was dimly lit by a faint green phosphorous glow emanating from the walls. The first out were Harry and Cho, followed by Hermione and Ron, next came Neville and Ginny, and the last two were Draco and Llewellyn. She paled visibly in the low light as she looked around.  
  
"What is it?" asked Draco. His voice seemed to become soaked up in the damp walls, as if they were listening to, or - even worse - understanding their every word.  
  
"This is my dream," she whispered.  
  
Hermione looked around. "I can't be sure from where we're standing right now, but I think we're in the bends of the body of the Serpent." She took a few steps forward, peered into the gloom, and added, "Yes, I can see the fork in the halls, where the head connects to the body." She walked back to the others, who were all looking around with apprehension.  
  
"So, what do you want to do? Stick around here or go looking for him?" asked Neville.  
  
"Let's go," replied Harry grimly. They walked on in the halls, and soon they reached the fork Hermione had seen. "Which way do we go?" he asked her.  
  
"Either way. The tunnel connects back to itself."  
  
The eight stood there for a few tense minutes, peering into the dim light to try and differentiate the two paths. Finally, Neville spoke. "We can split up. Ginny and I, and Harry and Cho, can go to the right; and Ron, Hermione, Draco, and Llewellyn can go to the left."  
  
No one argued, as no one had a better idea. They divided, and began walking down their respective earthen corridors. Harry looked around cautiously, hyper-alert and sensitive to any noises they heard. Only once or twice did an odd sound break through the muffled gloom, but it was highly probable that it was just the other four's footsteps echoing through the damp tunnel. He wondered if they would find anything showing that this place was related in any way to Voldemort.  
  
They came upon a turn that bent to their left sharply, and then curved out of sight. There was no other way to turn, but Harry felt his scar beginning to pinprick with pain. "Wands out," he whispered, and the four slowly drew them out. They slowly moved through the new passageway, each not wanting to tell each other that their face was pale and dead- looking in the eerie light.  
  
Suddenly, Cho saw something on the floor, and she stopped the others to point it out. It was long and very shiny, with an ominous glint in the phosphorescent light. They took a few careful steps forward and saw that it was a broadsword, the wickedly sharp blade nearly four feet long. Neville had noticed the oddly-shaped hilt and was kneeling down to inspect it when he saw movement from the tunnel before them reflected in the blade.  
  
He lept to his feet, his wand raised and ready, and Ginny, Harry, and Cho were right behind them. There were a few choked seconds of dead quiet, and then suddenly, "It's us!" came from the darkness. Ron and Hermione appeared, followed by Llewellyn and Draco. All eight of them took a deep breath and then refocused on the sword at their feet.  
  
"That's the sword in my dream," said Llewellyn softly, "but it wasn't here. And it was broken." Draco knelt and looked at the hilt more closely than Neville. He whispered something under his breath, possibly a curse, and reached out to grip the handle.  
  
The instant his hand came in contact with the sword, two very strange things happened. Blinding, white-hot pain flooded into Harry's scar, and he collapsed onto the ground, writhing in agony. Draco dropped the sword quickly in surprise, and Harry's pain instantly subsided. The other seven were so concerned with him that they didn't even notice the greyish-white light pouring into the tunnel until Harry got to his feet.  
  
"You all right?" asked Ron. Harry nodded, and Cho kissed him on the cheek.  
  
"Look!" said Ginny, pointing towards the new passageway that had appeared in the wall. It was earthen, like the other tunnels they had traveled, but it was much lower, and the moist walls didn't glow. Instead, it appeared to lead into another room, which was lit by a weird greyish light.  
  
"That must be the egg of the snake," said Hermione, trying to be matter-of- fact, but sounding more than a little shaky.  
  
They let their eyes adjust to the much brighter light, and then they went into the egg.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"I can't stand this. We have to do something." Lawrence was pacing now.  
  
"Settle down," whispered Rosalind.  
  
"I'm doing to get the Headmaster."  
  
"Lawrence!"  
  
"They could be dying! What if all they need is a mature wizard to fight for them, otherwise they're all killed? I can't do that to my friends."  
  
"We decided from the beginning that we would fight our own battles, remember? If there had been enough Floo, we would have gone too, and then no one could go and get the professors to save our butts. Now I wish I hadn't said that to them, because we had decided that we were going to try and find You-Know-Who by ourselves, and only ourselves. And now, we must face the repercussions of that decision." She took his hand.  
  
"But," he began.  
  
"No matter what they are."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The room was a few feet lower than the tunnels, oval, with a high ceiling, and yellow walls of clay. It was nearly the width of the Great Hall at its widest point. In the center of the room was a strange, closed hemisphere, tight to the floor. The dome was twenty feet across, slightly luminous and nearly transparent. It was a strange, milky-white color, and the surface swirled and flowed, with formations like angry faces and hands twisted in agony appearing in the mist.  
  
Other than the unearthly hemisphere, there appeared nothing strange about the room. The eight were looking amongst each other, wondering what would happen next, when the surface of the dome started to bend and ripple. The students drew closer to each other as the dome contorted, now changing to a tear drop shape, with the pointed end right before them. They watched in horror as a distinct figure began to appear amonst the silently screaming souls of the dome. The nameless faces and hands clawed at the figure as it appeared, becoming solid, threatening, and the ultimate of nameless faces:  
  
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.  
  
He brushed the wispy dome from his solid body, freeing his black robes from the desperate, indistinct faces with his long, chalky fingers. The dome shuddered and resumed its hemispherical shape. Voldemort then turned his red, reptilian eyes to the eight, a horrible expression something like pride playing on his snake-like features.  
  
"So, Potter," he said, his voice dark and smooth. The students tightened their grips on their wands, each more unsure of what to do than the next. "You've arrived just in time, along with two wondrous presents for my little house party." He grinned, a terrible, cold smile that seemed to squeeze everyone's hearts into nothingness.  
  
Harry didn't quite understand what Voldemort had said, and thought maybe he meant Ron and Hermione.  
  
"You don't even know what filth you brought into my home?" sneered Voldemort, seeming to read Harry's mind. "The only pleasure these two will bring me is the look on their faces as I slowly kill them."  
  
The Dark Lord turned to Draco. "Malfoy! You buffoon, you idiot, you mortal fool!" Voldemort's face contorted in rage. "Your father was stupid enough to denounce me when I met my downfall, and now he cries out for mercy as my slave. At least he had the courage to admit his mistakes, and now he is paying for his selfish, half-witted decisions with a mere few years' servitude.  
  
"But you, on the other hand, Draco. You denounced not only me, but your whole family. Not only your whole family, but your whole past. You forgot what an ambitious, loyal boy you used to be. Now, you befriend Mudbloods, half-Squibs, wizard trash - and the one who somehow defeated me!  
  
"What was your deal, Malfoy? You thought you could hide behind Potter when the time to live up to your perfidy came? Even Potter isn't immune to me now. Nothing can stop me now, especially treacherous, lying, rotten rats!" He raised his wand.  
  
"Crucio!"  
  
Draco hit the floor, curled up into a fetal position, screaming in agony. Llewellyn, tears in her eyes, knelt by him and tried to comfort him, but it was useless. Voldemort stopped the curse. "  
  
Ah, just as I thought, you beast," he spoke harshly, nearly spitting "beast". "You found comfort in Malfoy's mutiny and decided to join up in his treason. I thought that if your parents left you to yourself, your heritage alone would awaken your loyalty to I, the heir of Slytherin. I kept trying to send you messages in your dreams to seek me out. When they only confused you, I had to make them clearer, but, apparently, your stupidity rivals even Malfoy's, and you couldn't decipher them without your new friends at Hogwarts.  
  
"You did manage to wreak a little havoc there, didn't you? When you came in contact with the Handbook of Modern Dark Magic, written by my great-uncle Grindelwald, the dreams I sent awakened your tongue, which awakened the enchanted runespoor snake to attack the other girls in your dormitory. Fortunately for you, the snake venom was weak from years of disuse, and the effects lasted merely a day."  
  
But it affected you, didn't it, Euryale? You knew you couldn't deny your family as easily as Malfoy. You knew you could be found out easily. You knew that, no matter what you did, She would live on in you in some way."  
  
Hermione gasped. "Euryale was - was one -"  
  
"Of the Gorgons. You have such a sharp mind for such a dirty heritage, Granger."  
  
Hermione said nothing, and Llewellyn gritted her teeth. Voldemort stared at her. "What's the matter, beast? You can't deny it. You're a Dark Witch no matter what you do."  
  
"No, she's not," said Harry boldly. "She's in Gryffindor, not Slytherin."  
  
"Houses mean nothing!" screamed Voldemort. "You should know that by now, Potter. You yourself were supposed to be in Slytherin, but that bloody hat of Gryffindor's put you into his house."  
  
Harry looked away from Voldemort, his scar and face burning. Now, the others knew. Voldemort glared at Harry piercingly, and he returned the look. Suddenly, the Dark Lord spat something in Parseltongue, and Nagini appeared from the entrance.  
  
"Attack the Gorgon," Voldemort commanded the snake, and then he turned towards the glowing dome.  
  
"Come, Harry," he called.  
  
Nagini slithered to Llewellyn, fangs bared. The gorgon's descendent bit her lip and backed up a step warily. Suddenly, Nagini struck out at her, and Llewellyn could do nothing except scream "STOP!"  
  
In Parseltongue.  
  
Nagini collapsed onto the stone floor, docile. 


	19. Chromo Alethio

Chapter Nineteen  
  
Chromo Alethio  
  
"Come, Harry," demanded Voldemort, stepping into the hemisphere.  
  
"No," replied Harry, feeling stupid. Suddenly, he felt his legs seized by great invisible hands, and looked down to see himself walking reluctantly into the dome. The faces around him brushed his body with feather-light touches. "Just wait," he whispered to them, not sure of what to do, and then he was inside the dome.  
  
"No!" cried Cho, and she ran into the enclosure. Harry caught her and held her hand. They looked through the milky-transparent walls to see the others following, and soon, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Draco, Harry, Cho, and Voldemort were in the circle. Only Llewellyn remained on the outside, sitting cross-legged next to Nagini with her face in her hands.  
  
Voldemort looked at the others carefully. "I see that you treasure other's lives over your own, and that is a foolish mistake. Alas, it will be your most fatal." He smiled his evil smile again, and the students shuddered.  
  
"Harry Potter," Voldemort began, addressing him directly. "I still don't know just why I couldn't defeat you on that night more than fifteen years ago. Now, it's irrevelant, as all I am doing now is working through your defenses to finally get you out of all my plans. I have conquered your mother's counterspell," he said with a smirk, touching Harry's face to give him another shock of pure pain to his scar. "Now, all that lies between us is our wands." He brought out his wand. "But I have found a way to defeat even this protection of yours.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!" he cried, and the seven stared in disbelief as the green light at the end of his wand appeared, and then fizzled out as if it had never been cast.  
  
"Interesting, isn't it, to see the most potent of the Unforgivable Curses as useless as a fake wand? This is the Chromo Alethio room, often discussed in magical theory, but never created througout all of history - until now. Many lives have gone into the making of this room." Harry, with a rising ache in his scar and his stomach, realized where those missing people had gone.  
  
"You will find that this is a zone where magical forces have been, in a sense, bent. Conventional magic, channeled through magical creatures - such as unicorn tail hairs or dragon heartstrings - is entirely null and void. In this space, it is only your personal magic, contained in your body, that will affect anything."  
  
Voldemort raised his hands, and they saw that they seemed to be giving off a thick black smoke. Harry looked down to see that his palms were starting to glow with a reddish light. With a high-pitched laugh, Voldemort twitched his hands, and the black smoke grew more solid, twisting into thick black ropes, that shot out and wrapped around Harry's neck.  
  
Harry feebly raised his hands, but when he tried to twitch them like Voldemort did, only harmless red sparks appeared. The black ropes began tightening, and Harry was starting to go black. His scar hurt like mad, and all he could do was toss trifling little red balls of fire at Voldemort. From lack of oxygen, "This is a bad way to go," was all that his mind could say to him when he tried to think.  
  
Suddenly, he saw green light to his left combine with his own red, turning into a larger yellow fireball. The yellow fireball hit one of the black smoke ropes, loosening his hold just enough for Harry to see Draco throwing the green flames. The other five caught on, and rapidly, the dome was full of color : Neville's yellow, Ginny's purple, Hermione's amber, Ron's orange, Cho's blue, Draco's green, and Harry's red.  
  
Now, Harry was entirely free from Voldemort's black smoke, and the Dark Lord was backing away from the differently colored lights into an increasingly small space. He couldn't hide the surprise and worry on his face for much longer, and the seven students saw that he was getting desperate.  
  
"Potter. I admit defeat," said the Dark Lord finally. The seven students lowered their hands and looked at each other happily. "Fools!" cried Voldemort, and suddenly, the black smoke ropes bound them all together into a constricting circle, with their backs up against each other.  
  
"I simply cannot believe you thought you could come up against me for a fifth time and get rid of me, Potter. Now, there lies nothing between your life and your death. I have stripped away all your defenses. You are a tiny worm under the heel of my boot. Will you beg for mercy or die with the nobility of losing a well-fought battle, Potter?"  
  
Harry said nothing, just held onto the knot of everyone's hands in the center of the circle.  
  
"Answer me!" Voldemort demanded.  
  
"You're wrong," said Harry calmly.  
  
"What did you say?" replied the Dark Lord, his snake-like nostrils flaring.  
  
"I said you're wrong." He waited a second, and then - "NOW!"  
  
The seven raised their hands in unison, and a blast of pure white light emanated from the hole formed by everyone's backs. The white fireball surrounded Voldemort, blinding him and making him release the black smoke. Voldemort screamed and backed into the edge of the dome, the milky faces attacking him. He raised his wand to try and ward them off, but there only came futile phoenix song intermingling with the Dark Lord's screams. He finally broke through the barrier.  
  
"I'LL GET YOU, POTTER!" he howled, and then he Disapparated with an ominous popping sound.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Before he knew what was going on, Cho was hugging and kissing him, crying. He looked at her, confused. "What's wrong?"  
  
"W-w-w-we d-d-d-did it!" she sobbed. "We went against You-Know-Who and survived!"  
  
Harry started laughing and crying at the same time, and saw that Hermione and Ron, and Neville and Ginny were also crying and hugging and laughing and smiling and just being generally confused about the whole situation. Llewellyn stepped through the boundary, and she and Draco merely hugged. Each had suffered physically and mentally, far exceeding previous experiences, and they could only console each other.  
  
The eight looked around them to see the faces of the Chromo Alethio room, all of them with a look of happiness and pride on their features. Harry stepped through them, and the rest of the living followed him. Harry spoke to the faces.  
  
"I don't know how to let you go to wherever it is you need to go, but if you need permission or something, please just leave. You shouldn't be here."  
  
The faces nodded, and with a flash of grey light and gust of wind, the dome seemed to unwind, and nearly two dozen ghosts appeared and floated up through the earth ceiling. The eight looked at each other, and at the entranceway to the egg.  
  
"How are we ever going to convince them that we battled You-Know-Who?" asked Cho, walking through the tunnel.  
  
"Dumbledore will believe us, but probably no one else," answered Harry.  
  
"I know how we'll convince them," said Draco suddenly. The others looked at him, and he lifted up the sword on the ground. "Look at the hilt."  
  
They peered closely.  
  
Salazar Slytherin. 


	20. The Order of the Phoenix

Chapter Twenty  
  
  
  
The Order of the Phoenix  
  
He looked at his watch and then showed it to her, almost angrily. "The dance ended ten minutes ago. They should be back by now. Something wrong happened!" He stormed to the door. "I'm going now, and you can't stop me!"  
  
"Lawrence, no!" Rosalind jumped up, desperate. "Three more seconds!"  
  
He frowned and began to count.  
  
"One..."  
  
The fire flickered...  
  
"Two..."  
  
Began to go out...  
  
"Three!"  
  
Rosalind sighed, and then she and Lawrence were running through the corridors, looking for the professors.  
  
The flames turned blue.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Lawrence couldn't believe their luck, for they had only gone through three passageways in their search. Dumbledore himself was walking through the north fourth-floor hallway, humming something to himself. "Headmaster Dumbledore!"  
  
"Yes, Mr. Bone?" he asked, looking from him to Rosalind and back with a twinkle in his eye. "Is this beauty the reason I didn't see you at the dance tonight?"  
  
"Harry and the others went after You-Know-Who!" he stammered.  
  
The twinkle was gone, instead replaced with a cold fire. "Where are they?" he demanded.  
  
"They went by Floo powder to a place in America at the beginning of the dance, and they aren't back yet," explained Rosalind. "They used a classroom close by."  
  
"Lead the way," demanded Dumbledore, and they ran towards the room.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
"Where are they?" asked Hermione, holding on to Ron to keep her balance from her rough Floo travel. Harry snatched the Marauder's Map from the desk, and scanned it quickly. "It's hard to tell...everyone's coming back from the dance all over the school...."  
  
"Someone's coming!" said Cho, looking over his shoulder and pointing at the map.  
  
Harry looked at the map's copy of the corridor outside, and saw three dots moving towards the room quickly. "It's them - and someone else -"  
  
"You're alive!" Rosalind cheered as soon as she saw them.  
  
"Are you all right?" asked Lawrence carefully.  
  
"Just a little shaken, but we're fine," replied Harry happily.  
  
"Is anyone going to tell us what happened?" demanded Rosalind. "And why is Draco dragging around a sword?"  
  
"I'd be rather careful with that, Mr. Malfoy, if you don't mind," said Dumbledore. He stepped into the room and smiled.  
  
There was silence, and then suddenly, ten people all began talking loudly at the same time. "Please, please! One thing at a time!" Dumbledore held up his hands. "Let us go to my office before someone finds us here."  
  
Hermione extinguished the fire, and Harry snatched up the map, before they left the classroom in a big lump and followed Dumbledore to his office.  
  
"Albus!" McGonagall ran out of a side corridor, looking flustered. "Albus, I've got eight missing students, and Matilda and Severus have one of their own each -" She then saw the students. "Oh, I see. Should I leave you to deal with them?"  
  
"That would be most appreciated, Minerva," replied Dumbledore. "I'll be with you shortly afterwards." He turned to the stone griffin. "Bertie Bott's."  
  
The spiral staircase to his office began to ascend, and the students filed on to it, a person a step. Harry was the first inside the office, and entered for his third time.  
  
Fawkes was on his perch, and Harry gave him a greeting, to which Fawkes crooned in reply. The faint snatch of phoenix song reminded Harry of Voldemort's struggle, half a world away. He wondered where the Dark Lord was now.  
  
The nine, who were all new to his office, were looking around in wonder when Dumblefore appeared. He sighed quietly when he saw all the students in his office, but quickly conjured up a long wooden bench for them to sit on. He motioned to it and went behind his own desk, first taking the sword of Slytherin from Draco with him. Harry noticed the Gryffindor sword in its case, which the headmaster placed the new sword next to.  
  
"We brought that back as evidence," explained Draco.  
  
"You know Voldemort's location?" guessed the quick-witted Dumbledore. The students nodded, and he sat down. "I want to know everything that's going on, in relation to the Dark Lord, that you know about, and how you figured it out. Especially," he added, "how Messrs. Potter and Malfoy decided to overcome their differences in the face of a common enemy."  
  
Harry and Draco flashed thin, weak smiles at each other, and then the Gryffindor took a deep breath.  
  
"Well...I guess it all started on the first day of school...."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harry spoke to Dumbledore for nearly half and hour, the other students interrupting with their own versions and opinions, at least twice each. Finally, Harry spoke about the Chromo Alethio room, and Dumbledore muttered a "Hmm", his first word since Harry began talking. Soon afterwards, Lawrence finished with "And then we got you," and there was silence.  
  
Finally, the headmaster spoke. "You all demonstrated an incredible amount of initiative, courage, and logic during this entire incident. Each and every one of you also displayed unwavering, genuine loyalty to your self, your friends, and the ones you love." The students all looked at their partner with admiration and respect.  
  
"Harry, when you told Voldemort 'You were wrong', what did you mean?" he continued.  
  
Harry thought about that.  
  
"I'm.I'm not quite sure, sir. It didn't feel like he was telling the truth, but I didn't know what the truth was."  
  
"The truth is, Harry, that one of your biggest defenses is sitting on the bench right next to you." Harry turned to his right, seeing Cho, and turned to the left, seeing Ron. "The thing that Voldemort cannot understand, and therefore cannot conquer, is love. Voldemort can never overcome the love of a friend, the love of a parent, the love of a boy or girlfriend, or husband or wife. In the end, even though he has conquered your mother's sacrifice, he will never be able to conquer her love, or your friends' love for you."  
  
Ginny began to break into tears again, and Neville hugged her.  
  
"Furthermore," Dumbledore continued, "you broke the rules, a few international in scope, exactly when you needed to. I agree that the international standards for dealing with a calamity of this sort are a bit outdated, especially since I had a hand in writing them after Voldemort's downfall." He sighed and looked at a stack of papers on his desk. "Well, Fudge will not want to have to listen to me tell him Voldemort's plans in the States, but desperate times call for desperate measures." He opened a small door in his desk and brought out a yellow cardboard box.  
  
"I daresay Professor Visilio will be wanting some of his extra-strength Floo Powder back, hm?" He smiled.  
  
"Um, sir?" said Harry, suddenly interested. "How much did Visilio and Patursa tell you?"  
  
"Enough to tell me something was wrong, but not enough to take action. And how much did you tell him, Harry?"  
  
Harry bit his lip. "The, um...the same."  
  
Dumbledore laughed. "I think an explanation, and an apology, is in order for our favorite Finnafunga nut." He gave the box of Floo to Rosalind. "Go on, I have some paperwork to do and people to see, thanks to your adventure."  
  
"Thank you, sir," said Harry, and the ten students stood up to go to Visilio's office. Just as they were about to leave, Dumbledore added, mysteriously, "Oh, and be sure to tell him to look in his desk for a certain letter. Professor Patursa has been working overtime for his old friend." He grinned.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"There you are!" exclaimed Visilio. "I've been wondering where you've been all night. I was playing all the latest hits from America."  
  
"Professor," began Rosalind, "we've got a bit to confess." She filled him on everything about the Dark Lord that he didn't know already know. "We're sorry we took the Floo," she added, "but it had to get done. Here's some more." She presented him with the empty wooden box, and the yellow cardboard one.  
  
"I thought you were acting a little funny," he admitted, opening a desk drawer, "but I was a little involved with the Nogtails game. What's this?"  
  
He pulled out a folded piece of parchment, and read the first lines out loud. "'Matt - Thanks for taking my advice so many years ago, but I think it's time you follow your heart instead of your head. This was easy - I just had to get that old forgetful coach to remember last season, and he was practically begging me to forward this to you. Jimmy.'" Visilio's brow furrowed as he continued silently.  
  
Suddenly, he paled. His eyes became huge, and he started having trouble breathing. "What is it?" asked Ron, concerned.  
  
"WAHOO!" screamed Visilio, and he started jumping around the classroom like a little kid. "Read it, read it!" he shouted, and he tossed the paper at the students.  
  
Llewellyn caught it, and read it aloud from where Visilio had left off:  
  
"'Dear Mr. Matthew Visilio,  
  
'It has come to our attention that you have played reserves for the New York Nogtails during the previous summers. You have proved to be a competent Runner during practices, and were an asset to the team whenever you played professionally. We have finished our process for selecting next year's Nogtails, and would be pleased to have you on our team.'" Llewellyn gasped, and squealed, "Visilio's going to be a Nogtail!"  
  
"Can I have your autograph?" asked Rosalind breathlessly.  
  
Visilio collapsed into a chair, just grinning stupidly. Suddenly, it seemed like a little light went off in his mind. "This means I'm not going to be teaching here next year," he announced.  
  
Harry laughed. "We seem to have that problem every year."  
  
"I have to talk to Jimmy," said Visilio, looking at his watch. He jumped "Flaming Fwoopers, it's past midnight! Get to your dormitories, you hoodlums!" He grinned, and added, just as they were leaving, "Good work, you guys. Just don't leave me out of the loop next time, okay?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The next morning, at breakfast, a huge owl dropped a thick roll of parchment into Dumbledore's lap. He unrolled the stack, glanced at it, and stood up. "May I have your attention please." The Great Hall quieted quickly. "Will all fifth-years please proceed to the hallway now for the results of their O.W.L.'s."  
  
Ron gulped, and the fifth-years from the four houses stood up, all feeling more than a little queasy. They stammered into the hallway, and Dumbledore distributed out their individual results on separate sheets of parchment, by alphabetical order.  
  
Llewellyn got hers first, then Hermione, Neville, Draco, Harry, and Rosalind, and then Ron got his last. They crept into a corner of the hall to compare their results.  
  
Hermione had tears in her eyes. "Fourteen!" she squeaked. "Fourteen O.W.L.'s!"  
  
"Tremendous!" congratulated Ron, kissing her on the cheek. "I knew you could do it! I got twelve! What'd you get, Harry?"  
  
"Eleven!" he said happily.  
  
"Me too!" added Draco.  
  
"Twelve!" said Rosalind.  
  
"Ten!" said Llewellyn, shrugging.  
  
"Nine!" said Neville, beaming.  
  
"Great job, everyone," declared Harry, and he went back in to finish breakfast. After all, he had a rather long letter to write to Sirius.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Finally, it was the last day of school. The trunks were packed, the dorms were cleaned, and the last few hours to be together before summer began saw the ten students all sitting together in the Great Hall.  
  
"I feel so connected to you guys," said Lawrence. "Even though I didn't even see You-Know-Who, I still feel like I went up against him and won."  
  
"We all faced the Dark Lord," said Ginny. "No matter where we were or what we did, we all worked together to track him down. Now it's in Dumbledore's hands to go after him."  
  
"I'm going to miss everyone so much." Llewellyn sniffed and rubbed her already red eyes. "I've never had friends like you before and I don't think I'll ever be closer to anyone, ever." She buried her face into Draco's shoulder.  
  
"What are we going to do when we go back to America?" said Rosalind. "I feel like I'm never going to be whole again without Lawrence and all of you."  
  
"We shared something special that Saturday," said Harry. "Remember how, when we heard that phoenix song, we knew that Voldemort was losing? It gave all of us hope. I think we should call ourselves the Order of the Phoenix, because we all work together to give each other hope, even when things get tough."  
  
"Just as long as we don't have to go around saving people or have secret code names or something cheesy like that," joked Ron.  
  
Harry laughed. "Here it is," said Hermione, back, again, in a book. "The Chromo Alethio room." She showed the entry to the others, but no one felt bothered enough to read the tiny text.  
  
"What does 'Chromo Alethio' mean?" asked Cho.  
  
"It means 'True Color', just like how we showed our true colors that day," answered Hermione, poetic and matter-of-factly at the same time.  
  
"Well, I don't know about you, but the Order of the Phoenix better be going on the train soon if they don't want to spend a lonely summer at Hogwarts while all their stuff is going home," said Neville, getting up from the table.  
  
They stood up, and Llewellyn and Rosalind gave one last parting hug and kiss to their boyfriends.  
  
"Write!" pleaded Llewellyn and Rosalind.  
  
"Oh, come on. We'll visit you. We know how Long-Distance Floo Powder works," replied Lawrence, smiling.  
  
"We'll just stop stealing it," added Draco, and then the girls were gone, to go through the fireplace back to their academy.  
  
The others wandered through the hallways, not wanting to stay, but not wanting to leave. Finally, they left through the front door, and took the horseless carriages to the train. They all took a seat in the furthest-back compartment, and soon, the train began its return to Kings Cross.  
  
As the train entered London, Hermione turned the conversation from their polite small talk. "Where do you think the Dark Lord is?" she asked.  
  
"Wherever he is, we're ready for him. All of us, together," replied Harry.  
  
The train was pulling into Platform 9 and 3/4.  
  
"All of us," they echoed. "Together." 


	21. Author's Notes

AUTHOR'S NOTES ON "HARRY POTTER AND THE BOOK OF EVIL": A QUICK DIRECTORY OF NEW PEOPLE, PLACES, AND THINGS  
  
*DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU HAVE FINISHED THE STORY!*  
  
LLEWELLYN EURYALE originally began as a friendly, slightly shy, Irish-American girl with braids, glasses, and freckles, named Annie Hurrey. Save for a few letters in the last name, exactly myself. Later, when I decided to make Book of Evil a big, Rowling-grade fic, she got a last name change to Scelestus, which means "hidden wickedness" in Latin. This was about the time that I began writing the second edition of "Book of Evil" and I also started to uncover the horrors of Mary Sues. It was also about then that I realized I had little to no background for her. Time for a change.  
I decided to think about how I would actually end BoE. The endings of all my stories don't appear until whether I want to evaluate whether I want to take my characters and plot so far all the way to the end of the story. So, I came up with the Chromo Alethio room and Annie's temptation with Nagini. I decided she would be a Parselmouth - a major pitfall in making a new Harry Potter character. So, I had to give a very good reason for her ability to speak to snakes...and change her nationality...and maybe even give her a new last name.  
I sent myself to my huge Muggle book on magizoology - A Natural History of the Unnatural World - and searched through the snake-related creatures for a name. Then, I found the perfect section: the Gorgons.  
(Interestingly enough, the 52nd edition of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander contains no mention at all of the Gorgons. Well, I guess when there are only three, and one was killed, there's no need to mention them in a modern-day magizoology book.)  
The names of the three Gorgons are Medusa, Stheno, and Euryale. "Medusa" would have been too obvious, and I don't know how to pronounce "Stheno", hence the last name "Euryale". Annie then became Greek, losing all connection to myself physically, save for the trapezoidal glasses. (I'm rather fond of them.) She also became a Parseltongue with good reason, having a dark connection to the Gorgons of long ago, and she got a new last name with a history lesson enclosed.  
I don't think the character Annie Euryale ever existed - she got the name Llewellyn right after that, from a quick glance at Quidditch Through The Ages by Kennilworthy Whisp. Llewellyn Euryale has no connection to "Dangerous" Dai Llewellyn. I just think it's a pretty name, although quite a bit long.  
  
ROSALIND SIDEREUS (this entry written by Emily): Way back in 7th grade, my best friend Annie came up with the idea that it might be fun to write a Harry Potter book 4, starring new characters. Namely, us.  
As book 4 turned into book 5 and Annie Hurrey turned into Llewellyn Euryale, Rosalind Sidereus, my character, began to take shape. She started out as sort of a mini-Mary Sue, being smarted than Hermione. Then Annie and I agreed that really wasn't possible.  
When everyone else in the story began to be paired up, Rosalind ::cough:: I ::cough:: began to feel left out. Originally, Rosalind was supposed to be paired up with Harry Potter, but things were going well with him and Cho. We started going through all the characters...Ron? No...Neville??...DUDLEY?!? And then we hit upon it. Lawrence!  
So then Roz had a boyfriend and a best friend, and life was good.   
  
PROFESSOR MATT VISILIO was inspired by a "What If?" section of a Harry Potter fansite. I forgot what site it was and who wrote it, but if you try to sue me I'll deny everything in court. *wink* It was something like "They get a new DADA teacher who is a Cubs fan and gives them less homework whenever the Cubs win." This made me think of a sports fan DADA teacher from America - or, as I say it in BoE, the States. (I tried to keep a British feel about it, calling apartments "flats" and vacations "holidays", but I think I still spelled most words like "color" and "labor" the American way.) The way he speaks in semi-Spanglish on the first day of lessons comes from my technology teacher, Mr. Festante.  
I also had to think of how he would leave at the end of the year. At first, it was going to be something really stupid, like he was caught stealing spoons - "Vispilio" means "Thief" in Latin. Then, after developing Matt (named after a crazy drama summer camp counselor named Matt Dunn, see Tim Wyvern's entry), I decided he deserved something cooler to leave Hogwarts by. (I got rid of the P in his name after that and I liked the Italian New Yorker feel of "Visilio" so I kept it.) I decided to have him drafted on to the New York Nogtails Quodpot 2000 team at the end of the year! Much, much cooler than stealing spoons. ^_^   
  
THE NY NOGTAILS, Matt's team, began as the NY Yankees, but it soon became obvious that there would be confusion between them and the Muggle baseball team. A quick glance through Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them yielded the Nogtails, little demon-like things from North America and Europe. (See the Quodpot 2000 entry below.)  
  
LAWRENCE BONE is a completely random person. I don't know where he came from or who he's supposed to be. Everything that developed about him was entirely spontaneous and accidental. And yet, he's a three-dimensional character with hopes and dreams, character potentials and character flaws.   
I have to make more characters like him. He was easy!   
  
THE COLUMBIA CHARACTERS are almost always based, to some degree, on actual people who were big in my life at the beginning of the story. Ino Kinst is a boy named Nick Sodano, and Skyla Conway is a girl named Jacklyn Goldstein. Nick has since gotten a "stick up his butt" and I don't hang out with him anymore, and Jacklyn moved, although we are still friends on the phone.   
The staff at the school, except for Patursa, is the insertion of some of my seventh-grade teachers. Headmaster Jannis comes from my principal at the time, Mr. Jack Dennis. (Jack + Dennis = Jannis.) Professor McVey was Mrs. McVey, my first algebra teacher. Professor Risden was Mr. Risden, the musical instructor when the story was created, and he has since retired and moved to Arizona. Professor Szeles was Mrs. Szeles, my scary biology teacher who, as far as I know, is still a biology teacher. And is still scary.  
  
JIMMY PATURSA, on the other hand, was a composite of different people, now nearly all of whom I can't remember now. "Patursa" is a kind of corrupted Latin for "Father Bear" (the actual translation of "Father Bear" would be "Pater Ursa"), and he is based mostly on a camp counselor nicknamed Papa Bear. The big, funny Papa Bear used his name so much I can't even remember what his real name was. I'm not sure where "Jimmy" came from, I think it just works with "Patursa". I'm not sure why he's even in this story, since he wasn't in the original plot. But he's here, and that's all that matters.  
  
TIM WYVERN, originally Tim Dunn, got his last name from a creature that looks like a two-legged dragon in A Natural History of the Unnatural World. He got his last name change when I got rid of all the original names, turning everyone into wizards. "Dunn" came from another camp counselor. Matt Dunn is quite the zany oddball, and so I originally divided him into two kooky male characters in the story. (Matt's first name went to the DADA professor.)   
Tim's first name, however, came from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Anyone who has seen the bizarre movie probably remembers these lines:  
  
Arthur: What manner of man are you that can summon up fire without flint or tinder?   
Tim: I... am an enchanter.   
Arthur: By what name are you known?   
Tim: There are some who call me... Tim!  
  
You may also remember the monster.  
  
Tim: Follow! But! follow only if ye be men of valor, for the entrance to this cave is guarded by a creature so foul, so cruel that no man yet has fought with it and lived! Bones of four fifty men lie strewn about its lair. So, brave knights, if you do doubt your courage or your strength, come no further, for death awaits you all...with nasty, big, pointy TEETH!  
  
And the monster...er...rabbit....  
  
Tim: Too late!   
*dramatic chord*  
Arthur: What?   
Tim: There he is!   
Arthur: Where?   
Tim: There!   
  
Arthur: What, behind the rabbit?   
Tim: It *IS* the rabbit!   
Arthur: You silly sod! You got us all worked up!   
Tim: Well, that's no ordinary rabbit! That's the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered rodent you ever set eyes on!!  
  
Hehehe. Tim the Enchanter. That's also where Death, his carnivorous rabbit, came from.  
  
QUODPOT 2000 was originally called Finnafunga. The following is from a conversation with my co-writer, Emily:  
  
Emily: So, what sport do they play in America?  
Annie: I dunno. Probably not Quidditch, because, you know, we play baseball here and they aren't too big on that in Europe. Some other sport that we'll call...for the sake of argument...um...Finnafunga.  
*pause*  
Emily: You do know that's what we're going to call it, right?  
Annie: ....Yeah....  
  
Eventually, though, there would have to be more to Finnafunga than a funny name. I tried concocting a new wizard sport, involving something about magic towers that shot flames. As you could guess, it...it didn't really go anywhere. As luck would have it, I found Quidditch Through The Ages and discovered that an American sport existed called Quodpot. Perfect! Only one small problem...It was boring! So, I wrote my own particular entry into the world of wizard sports: Quodpot 2000.  
  
"Quodpot 2000 is a modern variation of the popular American sport invented in the 18th century by Abraham Peasegood. The outline of the originial Quodpot game is as follows:  
  
- Two teams, of eleven players each.  
- There is a Quod, which is a Quaffle that has been enchanted to randomly explode.  
- The Quod is passed back and forth from player to player, trying to get to the end of the field.  
- Whoever is holding the Quod when it explodes must leave the field.  
- When the Quod gets to the end of the line, it is placed in the other team's pot, which prevents  
the Quod from exploding.  
- One point for each goal.   
  
This has been quite a popular sport in America, reaching from the Washington Jarveys to the Florida Dugbogs. However, increasing requests for a better game have caused many loyal Quodpot fans to alter the game for their personal entertainment. In 1967, Mr. Geraldo Dizzfen, then President of the National Quodpot Club (NQC), decided to begin researching older broomstick sports like Quidditch and Swivenhodge. Rumors existed he looked at certain Muggle sports such as baseball and rugby. He also began accepting requests and ideas for improving the game of Quodpot from professionals, amateurs, and children alike.  
  
The suggestions came in a hailstorm. Everything from adding another pot to requiring all players to sit in flying armchairs arrived by owl into Mr. Dizzfen's office. Finally, after putting in nearly two months total in overtime, the NQC president had drawn up a new set of rules for the new and improved sport of Quodpot 2000.  
  
- Two teams, of six players each.  
- The Quod is a small red ball about five inches in diameter that has been enchanted to randomlyflash and emit a loud scream. (There had been an increasing number of injuries due to the previous Quod's explosive tendencies.)  
- Two of each team play defense and are called Blockers. The remaining four play offense and are called Runners. (Note: In more modern times, it has become increasingly popular to call the Blockers "Potties" and the Runners "Quoddies")  
- When the Quod goes off, the team touching the Quod gets a Bamp. If it is in the air, it is whomever touched it last that receives the Bamp.  
- Both Blockers and Runners are not allowed to touch the Quod in their hands. They must use semi-spheres called Shells, seven inches in diameter, to both hold and throw the Quod.  
- A point is added to a grand total by each individual Runner who catches the Quod in his or her Shell, no matter what side he or she is on. The one team who throws the Quod in the Pot collects all the points in this grand total, and the grand total begins with a new score.  
- The game ends when a team collects five Bamps. The other team receives an extra fifty points.  
  
Mr. Dizzfen thanks everyone who sent him suggestions, and hopes that the new Quodpot 2000 will be a great success for all who attempt it."  
  
Not too shabby for two month's overtime, huh? The Shells came from a game my friend Liz and I concocted after our GEPA tests in eighth grade. Using coconut shells (brought in to re-enact Monty Python and the Holy Grail), we would pass a bouncy ball that lit up when hit hard to each other faster and faster...without setting the bouncy ball off.   
Fun while it lasted, unlike those GEPAs....   
  
THE FIRST SONG, at the first dance, in case you are wondering, is the song "Heartbreaker" by Led Zeppelin, which helped to inspire me to begin writing this whole story three years ago. The beginning to the song is a loud, slammin' guitar solo that I can see all the puny little English kids quailing to.  
These are the lines most important to the story in "Heartbreaker", which can be kind of applied to Harry saying them to Llewellyn (Annie):  
"Hey fellas, have you heard the news?/You know, well, Annie's back in town/Won't take long, just watch and see/All the fellas lay their money down...People talkin' all around/'bout the way you left me flat/I don't care what the people say/I know where their jive is at...Heartbreaker, your time has come/Can't take your evil ways/Go away, you heartbreaker!!"   
Does that mean that this whole thing is a song fic? Probably not, considering how little relevance it has to the whole story. But that's the way it goes.  
  
OTHER THINGS were not considered important or cool enough to be included in my directory of new stuff in the wizard world. If you have any questions about something non-canon in "Book of Evil" that I haven't covered, please review or IM me and I'll explain it in detail.  
One note I would like to make here is that there is a lot of stuff, such as Starfish and Stick formation or ashwinders, that is not in the Harry Potter series, but IS in either Quidditch Through the Ages or Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. I highly suggest you get these books, as they are very cheap, they can both be read in less than half an hour, and you will gain a much deeper knowledge of the wizarding world from them.  
  
REVIEWERS rule! I would like to especially thank Tiger Girl, a random reader who wrote no less than 7 reviews for my story. I would also like to thank depth, my friend Irene, for her many reviews and comments at school. Oh, and thanks to lbj for his/her frank comment, I actually went back and altered the story a little on his/her suggestion. Thanks to everyone else who reviewed me. Sometimes I think that something's wrong with me because I have a very low amount of reviews in comparison to story length, but then I just think of all the nice people and helpful reviews that I've received, and life is good once again.   
  
FINALLY, I would like to dedicate this story to my best friend Emily's and my friendship. I will admit that this story single-handedly saved, glorified, and immortalized our friendship over the past three years. "Book of Evil" is the parent of countless inside jokes, some of which will come to life in the next section, "Scenes that Never Made It". 


End file.
